


Immutable

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-06 13:24:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 58,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: After losing his girlfriend, Ianto Jones heads to his local, where he meets a mysterious man who will change his life. Or perhaps it was always meant to be.





	1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Ianto knocked back his drink and leaned against the bar, gazing out at the rest of the pub. It was still early, so it wasn't particularly crowded, and there wasn't much to watch. He turned back to the bar and ordered another drink.

It had been a week since Lisa died, and Ianto still felt like he was trapped in a nightmare of never-ending pain and misery. He'd spent the first twenty-four hours unmoving on this sofa, not even bothering to take off his bloody suit until Owen had showed up and chivvied him into the shower. After checking him over for injuries, the doctor had left Ianto with a bottle of antidepressants and told him to call if he felt like killing himself. He probably wanted to help pull the trigger, so Ianto had deleted Owen's number from his phone.

Tosh had called not long after that, but he hadn't answered. He'd slept for the next twenty-four hours, only leaving his bed to use the loo. Eventually he'd found some biscuits and ate the pack, though he had no idea whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner. He'd then slept some more, which was when the nightmares started.

After that, he couldn't go back to his bed, and stayed up night after night until he literally collapsed on the sofa from exhaustion sometime the next day. He didn't eat, didn't go out, didn't do anything. He'd contemplated swallowing the entire bottle of Owen's pills, but decided he didn't want to give the doctor the satisfaction...not yet.

He finally left his small flat when he needed food. His mind blank, he walked for miles in the chill fall night as his feet moved automatically through the streets of Cardiff. When he passed by his local for the third time, he decided to stop and get a drink. Now he was holed up at the bar, trying to feel anything but emptiness and loss. It wasn't working. He ordered another drink, then a third.

The barman told him it was last rounds, and so Ianto got one more. He glanced around and noticed a man at the end of the bar watching him. He had brown hair and blue eyes and a friendly, open air about him. He also looked slightly familiar, but Ianto couldn't be bothered to try and figure out who the man was. He finished his drink, paid his tab, and stumbled back home for another sleepless night.

* * *

He decided to go back to the pub the next day; it was better than having nightmares, after all. He walked first, his mind still numb as he wandered block after block before arriving back at the Quiver and Quill and several pints of beer. For days, he walked the streets of Cardiff, then stopped at the pub and drank down his sorrow, and each night the man with the brown hair was there. And each night Ianto noticed the man watching him, sometimes trying to make eye contact, or smiling at him. One time the man even stood up and started walking toward Ianto, only to be intercepted by an attractive blond woman. Ianto paid his tab and left in a hurry; he wasn't there to make friends, even if the bloke did look like a film star.

* * *

When Josh, the barman, started talking to him after a week, Ianto felt like a real regular. He made it clear, however, that he wasn't interested in a counselor, but preferred talking about other, mindless things—the weather, the rugby match, the local gossip. It was a Friday and the pub was busier than it had been all week, and for a while Ianto almost enjoyed losing himself in the anonymity of the noisy crowd.

The man with the brown hair walked in, once again wearing a large grey coat that billowed behind him. It was awfully pretentious and probably too much for the weather, but it somehow suited him. Ianto tried to remember where he'd seen the man, other than at the pub over the last several nights, but he couldn't place him. The man glanced around and noticed him watching, offering a smile and a nod. For the first time, Ianto considered introducing himself, but the Blues were up by four and he wanted to see the end of the match.

Ianto ordered two more drinks before Josh cut him off. The man in the greatcoat was flirting outrageously with some poor sod at the end of the bar. Ianto tried not to watch, but even that seemed familiar. He told himself he wasn't interested. He didn't want to be flirted with, and certainly not by the brown-haired stranger; he was only trying to remember where he'd seen the man before.

He tried talking to the bloke next to him about the match, but the other man ignored him in favor of glowering into his pint; apparently, he was an Ospreys fan. Ianto paid his tab and left with one last glance at the brown-haired man, who was watching him leave and waved.

* * *

The nightmares were bad the next day, so Ianto went to the Quiver and Quill earlier than usual. He even ordered food; after eating nothing but biscuits, crisps, and alcohol for over a week, he found he was finally hungry for something else. Taking his fish and chips in hand with a pint of beer, he found a booth in the back, looking forward to enjoying some privacy in the quiet pub. Soon some of the regulars he'd noticed over the past few days began to straggle in, including the man in the greatcoat.

Moments later, the brown-haired man was standing beside the table with two pints in hand. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, and Ianto glanced up, his heart racing in surprise. The man was quite handsome up close, if one were to notice such things, and Ianto couldn't help but notice. The other man held himself with confidence and was grinning down at Ianto with a bright smile.

"I might not be such great company," Ianto replied.

"That's what this is for," the man said, sitting down across from him and sliding the glass across. "Unless you're already well on your way."

"First one," Ianto replied, finishing his drink and raising the second. "Cheers."

The man tipped his own glass and took a long sip. "You look familiar," he said. "Have we met before?"

"I've been here the last few nights, sitting down the bar from you," Ianto replied, hiding his surprise because he'd been thinking the same thing all week. Maybe they had met somewhere. He continued eating his chips. The other man shrugged.

"Must be it then. My name's Jack," he offered, and Ianto took a sip of his beer before he replied.

"Jones," he said. "Ianto Jones." He paused and returned to his dinner. "And I'm not into  _that_  sort of company tonight, if you take my meaning."

Jack laughed. "Noted. Personal or in general?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Neither and both?" he said.

"Ooh, enigmatic," said Jack. He had an easy charm about him that Ianto had to admit was appealing, though he also sensed the man had an ego that didn't need to be encouraged. "So, bad day at work?" Jack asked casually. Ianto glanced up and gave him a dry look. "Okay, bad week at work? Or bad job, perhaps? I noticed you, the last several nights. You look like a man trying to forget something."

Ianto was surprised at the man's forwardness, but decided to meet it head on; maybe the man would leave him alone, or at least stop asking personal questions. He looked him straight in the eye. "My girlfriend died last week."

Jack's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. Wow, I'm so sorry," he said, and he sounded genuine. "What, er, what was her name?"

"Her name was Lisa," Ianto murmured, and Jack's hand moved forward on the table, as if he wanted to reach across and offer support.

"What happened?"

Ianto laughed bitterly into his glass, glad when Jack motioned to the barman for another. He couldn't very well tell the complete stranger sitting across from him that his girlfriend had been captured by aliens from another dimension and turned into a cybernized nightmare who had killed two people. Just like he couldn't tell the man that Ianto's coworkers had killed her and suspended him for putting the entire world at risk, leaving him alone and adrift once more, as he had been after the disaster at Canary Wharf.

Still, he could say something, and simply telling another person that his girlfriend had died felt like lifting a secret burden from his shoulders. No one at work had offered any condolences before he'd left, and here was a stranger telling him he was sorry and asking about her.

"She was sick," Ianto told him, hoping the other man wouldn't ask any more questions, since he couldn't say any more. It was true, from a certain point of view. "I tried to take care of her, but in the end, I couldn't save her. She's gone."

This time Jack did reach over and grip Ianto's hand. "I really am sorry. No wonder you're here every night. Do you have any family or friends in town? To help?"

"Not really," said Ianto, thinking of his sister and how he couldn't tell her anything. She'd worry him to death. He should call his mother, tell her he was back in Wales, but he'd been so focused on Lisa for months that he didn't even know how to start that conversation. "We moved back here from London a few months ago and have been pretty focused on…well."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jack asked, and Ianto quickly shook his head.

"Nope," he said. "I can't." Literally, since it was a question of national security. Lisa's death was not something he could share, even if he wanted to, and that made him angry all over again, that he had to lie about it when it was tearing him up inside.

Jack nodded in sympathy. "I understand," he said quietly. "I've lost a lot of people over the years, and it's hard those first days and weeks when you keep expecting to see them, hear them, feel them." He smiled at Ianto. "But it does get better, I suppose. So, if you don't want to talk, I happen to love the sound of my own voice."

Ianto snorted. "Why am I not surprised?" he replied.

"Because you read me well," Jack laughed. "I always have a lot to say, if you want the company. Or we can talk another day, if you're not feeling up to it."

Jack looked at him expectantly, and Ianto made a snap decision: maybe sitting there listening to a charismatic man tell stories was better than drinking himself into oblivion for one night. And it felt good to talk to someone, to feel even the simple touch of a sympathetic hand after going so many months without. It was entirely possible Jack was only trying to get into his pants, which under other circumstances might not have been a bad thing, but Jack also seemed genuine in his concern, and Ianto sensed a similar sadness in the man when he'd talked about his own losses.

Ianto leaned back. "Are you hungry? I could go for some more chips."

Jack's grin was blinding, like the invitation to stay had made his day. He nodded enthusiastically, ordered some food and a glass of water, and set about talking.

He told stories that had Ianto laughing so hard his sides ached. He'd never thought he'd laugh again, and yet they spent hours talking and laughing at the table. Ianto did not talk about Lisa, but he did talk about other things, when the topic of conversation intersected. They'd both spent some time in London but had a love for Cardiff, and though Jack's tastes in music were much different and rather old-fashioned compared to Ianto's, they shared similar tastes in books and movies.

Jack had a deep knowledge of history, and as Ianto listened, it occurred to him that Jack was probably older than he looked. At times his eyes crinkled with sadness even while he was laughing, and Ianto found himself wondering what heartbreak this man had suffered, because it was clear that he too felt lost and alone, like Ianto.

Tempering his alcohol with food and an occasional glass of water, Ianto felt remarkably clear headed when it came time to leave. They paid their tabs and left the pub, shaking hands outside the door, Jack's grip warm and firm.

"I enjoyed talking with you," Jack said, tucking his hands into the pocket of his greatcoat. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

"I did too," said Ianto. "I'll probably see you around here, I imagine."

"Probably, if I know you'll be here," Jack said with a wink. Ianto rolled his eyes but laughed. It felt a bit strange to be flirted with, but he had to admit, it also felt nice. Normal.

"Right. Well, thanks for the company. See you next time." He turned to leave, but thought of something and turned back. "I didn't get your last name, actually."

"I didn't say," Jack replied.

"Ah," Ianto nodded in understanding. "You're a spy, aren't you? Undercover pub crawl?"

"Not exactly," Jack laughed. "I'd make a terrible spy in this coat."

"I like the coat," Ianto told him.

"Thanks. How about I tell you my last name if you give me your number." Ianto raised an eyebrow and Jack laughed again. "Not for  _that,_  but to get in touch. You know, make plans to meet for a drink again if I don't see you around for a while."

"Right," said Ianto, but found that the thought of exchanging numbers with Jack didn't bother him that much. He had enjoyed spending time with the other man and could see an unexpected friendship developing from it. After they'd exchanged numbers, he waited expectantly. "So?"

"Jack Harkness," Jack replied, shaking his hand once more, and this time his fingers lingered along Ianto's palm in a remarkably pleasant way. "Good night Jones, Ianto Jones."

He turned and walked away, and with a stunning realization, Ianto knew why the man had seemed so familiar. He'd seen him before, in London.

Jack Harkness was Torchwood.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an alternate universe story that I started eons ago, in which Jack is not a part of Torchwood at this point. The reasons why will be revealed over the next few chapters. The story tends to follow the outline of season one, but with the obvious difference of Jack's absence changing a few things—including their relationship. Just another way to watch them come together, but perhaps under better circumstances for them both. It should be about 12 chapters and I plan to update every week or so. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Ianto did not go to the pub the next day. He wasn't sure how he felt now that he knew he'd spent the previous night talking and laughing with a man who had once been with Torchwood, especially given Ianto's own questionable relationship with the organization. And he'd heard the rumors at Torchwood One: that Jack Harkness had been with Torchwood too long to be human. That he was a promiscuous rake on top of it. That he had killed his team at the start of the millennium before leaving the institution for good.

Ianto remembered seeing Harkness at Torchwood One. He remembered people talking and whispering behind the man's back, and how angry and annoyed Yvonne had been after Harkness had left. She'd had no love for the man, but it was said he knew more about Torchwood, aliens, and time travel than anyone, which was why he'd consulted with London on exceptionally rare occasions that usually involved a brush with the end of the world. Some files suggested that he had been a Companion of the Doctor and concluded that had something to do with the fact that he could be picked out of case files going back decades.

That Jack Harkness was a charming flirt was certainly true, and Ianto imagined the stories about him bedding anyone and everyone were probably true as well. And Harkness's eyes had spoken of an age beyond his appearance, experience beyond his apparent years that would certainly lend credibility to his being with Torchwood a long time, a Companion, or both. Yet Ianto had a hard time imagining the man he'd met killing his entire team and getting away with it, only to remain in Cardiff, free to frequent pubs.

He thought about going to the Ferret nearby, but even though he'd only been going to the Quiver and Quill for a short time, he didn't feel like starting over at another pub. So he went back early the following night, both glad and disappointed when he found the pub mostly empty. It was a Monday, after all, and most of the regulars were still at work. He decided he'd have a few beers and leave before the crowd arrived. He even thought about stopping at the store for food and cooking himself a proper dinner, something he hadn't done since before Lisa had died, but decided he wasn't ready for that; take away would do.

To Ianto's surprise, Josh asked him about Jack. Nothing personal, only if they were friends, because he'd seen them eating together the other night. Apparently, Jack had asked about him when Ianto had not come around the day before. Ianto shrugged it off, telling Josh that they'd just met and had enjoyed a few drinks together, nothing more. At which point Josh warned him that Jack was a player, and Ianto assured him, probably too vehemently, that he was definitely not interested in  _that._

As the pub started to fill up, Ianto finished his drink, grabbed his coat, and turned to leave—and promptly ran into Jack Harkness. He smiled and held up his hands as Ianto almost knocked him over.

"Whoa, tiger," he laughed. "In a hurry?"

Ianto shook his head. "No, heading home early tonight."

Jack looked at his watch and frowned. "It's only half seven," he said. "And I just got here! Everything all right? I didn't see you around yesterday."

"Contrary to what you may think, I don't sit around here every night," Ianto replied, his tone snappish and short. Jack stepped back again, eyebrows raised.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. "Did something happen?"

Ianto laughed bitterly. "Of course nothing happened. I have no life, so nothing  _can_  happen, good or bad."

"Did I do something wrong, then? You seem upset." Jack appeared genuinely concerned, and Ianto sighed, feeling bad about his irritable mood. He had enjoyed talking with Jack the other night; why should knowing Jack's name change that experience? Perhaps he should find out more about the man and see if his initial impressions were right, that Jack was a decent person and nothing like Torchwood One had made him out to be.

"I know who you are," Ianto said. Jack looked confused, and Ianto leaned closer. "You're Torchwood."

Jack's eyes widened slightly as he grabbed Ianto's arm, motioned for two drinks, and practically dragged him to the farthest table he could find. Ianto thought about protesting, but he wanted to know what Jack had to say for himself.

"Not anymore," Jack said as they sat down across from one another, leaning forward so the rest of the pub couldn't hear them. "I left years ago. Besides, how do you know that?"

Ianto picked up a napkin and started folding it, unable to meet the other man's eyes. "Because I'm Torchwood as well."

Jack blew out a breath as he sat back. "Damn."

"Yep." Something occurred to Ianto, something he hadn't considered before and didn't think was true now, but had to ask. "You didn't start talking to me because you knew, did you?"

"I had no idea," Jack said, shaking his head. "And honestly, if I had…" He shrugged. "I might have found another pub. I don't want anything to do with Torchwood."

"Ah, well, all right," said Ianto. "Guess I'll leave you to it, then." He stood up to leave, irrationally disappointed, but Jack pulled him down.

"No, wait. We didn't meet as Torchwood, but as two normal guys at a pub," Jack said. "That doesn't have to change. Why…why are you here every night? Why aren't you at work?" Their drinks arrived, and Jack ordered some food for them as well. When Ianto didn't answer, Jack pressed him. "I know Torchwood Three. The hours are rubbish, especially with such a small team. What happened? Did they actually give you bereavement leave?"

"I'm on suspension," Ianto replied quietly. "One month to pull my shit together and decide whether I want to go back."

Jack stared at him. "Suspension? Go back? They're actually giving you a choice?"

A bitter laugh escaped before Ianto could stop it. "Oh, I imagine they'll Retcon the last six months if I don't," he replied. "Or possibly the last three years. So it's sort of a damned if you do, damned if you don't kind of thing."

"That's Torchwood," Jack murmured. He leaned forward, once again appearing worried, and Ianto's gut told him the man wasn't playing him, but was genuinely concerned. "Why were you suspended?"

Ianto debated how much to tell Jack Harkness. Logically, he knew anything he told the man could come back to hurt him somehow, but he'd already lost everything. Oddly enough, Jack was the first person—including his coworkers—that Ianto actually felt like he could talk to, who might understand what Ianto had gone through because he too had worked for Torchwood and suffered because of it. And even though he'd only talked to him for one night, Ianto instinctively felt that he could trust the other man. He took a deep breath.

"I wasn't lying when I said my girlfriend died. Or that she was sick." He paused to gather his thoughts. "We worked at Torchwood One together," he said, and looked up to find Jack staring at him in horror.

"You were at Canary Wharf," he said, understanding immediately. "When it fell to the Cybermen and Daleks."

Ianto nodded and swallowed the knot in his throat. "I was, yes. We both were, only Lisa…she was captured by Cybermen." He took a shaky breath and continued. "She was partially converted, so I brought her to Torchwood Three to try to help her."

"But she didn't make it," Jack said, nodding in sympathy. "I can't imagine what you've been through. I don't know what to say."

"You shouldn't say anything," Ianto replied. He may as well tell Jack everything; he had nothing to lose. "There's more. I didn't tell anyone. I hid her in the basement, tried to help her for months using Torchwood resources, and when I finally got her off life support, I think…I think the programming took over. She hurt people, killed them trying to upgrade them. And they… my coworkers …they killed her to stop her. Because I couldn't."

Jack didn't reply, apparently stunned silent, so Ianto finished. "Now I'm on suspension, trying to pick up the pieces. Somehow, I survived Canary Wharf, but this…this is worse. And this is my life now."

"Are you going to go back?" Jack asked. Their food arrived then, but they both picked at it. Ianto thought about the question and realized he had no answer.

"I don't know," he replied. "It's not like Torchwood One. They're not in it for their own end, to restore the glory of the British Empire. They're only trying to protect the city. Between the Rift and the Weevils, there's a lot to do, and there's not much time for power grabs and politics—especially with One gone now."

Jack nodded as if he agreed. "I suppose that's true, though when I was there, Three was still London's lapdog."

"I don't think Yvonne cared as much about the Cardiff branch once she took over," Ianto replied with a shrug. "She let them do what they did as long as they towed the line and sent her the good stuff. By the time I got there, which was only a fortnight after One fell, it seemed almost an afterthought. Bit of a mess, really."

"That's down to Evans, he's been in over his head for years. So you want to go back because it _isn't_  Torchwood One?" Jack sounded understandably skeptical. "Everyone I knew from London loved working there."

"I did too," said Ianto, remembering better times at Torchwood One. "But now it's gone. Because it's not Torchwood London, Cardiff isn't going to grow into another bloated, dysfunctional bureaucracy. I know that was a problem in London, but we still did good things. We even saved the world on occasion, until we almost destroyed it. I don't think Torchwood Three will write its own end."

Jack snorted. "You don't know that. It's so small now they could all get wiped out by the next big thing that comes through the Rift. Hell, I've seen it almost happen any number of times."

"Probably, but there's a sense of honesty in it, at least," Ianto said, filing Jack's enigmatic comment away for later. "They're not trying to further their own goals, and they try to do the right thing. I feel like what they do matters, at least to Cardiff."

Jack took a sip of his drink, set it down, and pierced him with a look. "You said they. Why aren't you including yourself?"

Ianto sighed. "Because I'm a nobody. I'm the teaboy. It's how I got the job—I clean up after them and file things and make them coffee, and for months they barely noticed because I was the bloke who stumbled in from London and offered to clean up after them."

"You said you were hiding a Cyberman in the basement," Jack pointed out. "Did you want them to notice?"

Ianto was quiet for a moment. "No, I didn't," he finally admitted. "It served me better to remain invisible, but that doesn't mean it didn't sting. Now I've betrayed them, and if I go back, I'll most likely be even more invisible now."

"Like you said—damned if you do, damned if you don't," Jack murmured, and Ianto nodded. Once he'd started talking about it, he found he couldn't stop.

"I have nothing else here in Cardiff. I live in an old, run-down flat because it's all I can afford. I've been working non-stop for three months so I don't have any friends. I don't talk to my family. So what do I do? Go back and suffer the consequences, remain invisible but hope I'm part of making a difference and get my shot to save the world? Or forget any of it ever happened? I don't want to forget all that I've seen and done…the good stuff, at least…and I don't want to forget Lisa."

"You shouldn't forget her," Jack murmured, gazing away from Ianto. "Retcon would only leave you with a hole in your life you could never fill and would always wonder about."

"Speaking from experience?" Ianto asked. "You sound like you've taken Retcon before."

Jack snorted. "I invented it. And yes, I have been forced to forget things. I've spent the rest of my life trying to remember, to understand. Not knowing is sometimes worse than knowing."

Ianto sighed. "That's what I figured, but I was half hoping you'd tell me to forget it all and start over."

"You could," Jack replied. "But you've already said you don't want to forget your girlfriend. And I think you're right: Torchwood Three is important, even if they barely get by, and you could make a real difference there. You have to decide how much you want to fight for that chance." He finished his drink. "When do you go back?" he asked.

"Two weeks," Ianto answered.

Jack nodded. "Then we have two weeks to figure it out."

"We?" Ianto asked, feeling oddly bemused.

Jack leaned back and grinned. "I like you, Jones, Ianto Jones. Torchwood's ruined enough lives, and I don't want it to ruin anymore, so you're stuck with me."

He motioned for a glass of water. Ianto wondered if he had made a grave mistake telling Jack so much, and yet he also felt lighter than he had for months. Perhaps Jack Harkness was exactly what he needed.

* * *

Ianto saw Jack almost every day over the next two weeks. The one night he went to the pub and didn't see Jack, the man texted him to apologize and make plans to meet the next day. They talked about anything and everything; having both worked for Torchwood, they didn't need to keep much secret when it came to the organization and the things they'd seen and done. They both had their feelings about it, yet they could also laugh about Weevils and Rift alerts at three in the morning.

It was easy to be with Jack. He was so open and outgoing, his extroverted personality a stark contrast to Ianto's more reserved temperament. Sometimes Ianto wondered why Jack was spending so much time with him, given how quiet he could be. But he was glad, as he knew he would otherwise be alone, mourning Lisa in his dingy flat with nothing but dark thoughts. Jack talked a lot, but he listened as well when Ianto needed to say something. They laughed a lot, and Ianto even began flirting back, a small thrill running through him at Jack's surprised smiles when he did.

Though he felt better than he had a month ago, he also knew he was still upset, deep down, and that his time at the pub was a distraction more than anything. The weekend before his suspension was over, Ianto began to feel more anxious and unsure. Jack picked up on it after failing to draw Ianto into a game of pool. When Ianto told him that he was due to report to work on Monday, Jack asked him what he had decided to do.

"I'm still not sure," Ianto replied. "To be honest, I've sort of enjoyed playing at having a normal life. I keep a regular schedule, can kip at the pub for a few hours every night, don't have to worry about being mauled by aliens…" He laughed, but it was hollow.

"Then maybe it's time to move on," Jack replied. "From Torchwood."

"I don't want to lose my memories," Ianto murmured, staring into his half-empty glass. One good thing about meeting Jack and talking for hours every night was that he drank less and ate more. "And to be honest, I'm a bit bored at times."

"I could help you with your memories," Jack replied, watching him closely. "Retcon isn't permanent, you know. And you could find a new job, start a new life."

Ianto snorted. "Right. Because working the checkout at Tesco is so exciting after working on advanced alien technology."

"It's something normal," Jack replied. "It's safe."

"It doesn't matter," Ianto pointed out.

"It matters to people who need to do their shopping."

Ianto shook his head. "I don't think it's for me."

"You have a degree and experience," Jack insisted. "You could find something besides Tesco. PA work, archival work, computers. You're intelligent, articulate, and good looking. You could do anything."

Ianto almost blushed at the compliment, but shook his head instead. "I'd still be wondering about everything I gave up, everything else that I could do, you know?"

"Is it worth it to stay, though?" Jack asked. "It could mean your life."

"I don't know," Ianto replied. "But what if you couldn't help with my memories? I don't want to forget."

Jack reached across the table and touched his hand. Ianto had noticed from their first meeting that Jack was a very tactile person who enjoyed friendly touch, and he had quickly got used to it. He even enjoyed it after going so long without, and sometimes wondered if it was simply being touched again, or if it was being touched by Jack.

"I told you I lost my memories once," Jack said quietly. "Two years of my life were taken— permanently," he added. "Retcon can usually be triggered, but my memories…two years, gone forever. I don't even know why. I understand you not wanting to go through that. It's not something I'd wish for anyone."

Ianto squeezed his hand before pulling away. "Is that why you left Torchwood?" he asked. It was something he'd wanted to ask for days, but had felt like he would be prying. For all their conversations about Torchwood, they had skirted around why Jack no longer worked for the organization.

"No, it happened years before that, and had nothing to do with Torchwood," Jack told him. "It's hard, knowing there's a gap in my life, that I'm missing something and don't even know why."

Ianto nodded. "Why did you leave, then?" he asked. "And did they let you keep your memories of Torchwood, or did you remember later?"

The look on Jack's face was sad and bitter. "I left because I was done with Torchwood. And I kept my memories because they couldn't take that from me, no matter how much they wanted to."

"Because you've been with Torchwood for so long," Ianto offered. Jack nodded.

"Longer than anyone. You can't Retcon that away."

Ianto was quiet. He'd suspected Jack had been with Torchwood far longer than it seemed. Jack had told so many stories about his time in Cardiff that Ianto half-believed the rumors he'd heard in London about the man's longevity. He still didn't understand why Jack had left, but suspected it was something Jack was not willing to talk about so he didn't press it.

"What would you do if you were me?" Ianto asked.

"I'd leave," Jack replied, quick and honest. "But I'm not you. You have your reasons for staying, just like I had mine for leaving."

A thought occurred to Ianto then, one that bothered him more than it probably should. "Would you…" He wasn't sure how to ask. "Would you stop talking to me if I went back?"

Jack looked surprised, then smiled and shook his head. "No, I wouldn't. I'd support you any way I could. I don't have many friends around here who know the difference between Weevil and a Hoix, and I wouldn't want to lose one."

Ianto felt a profound sense of relief, that he wouldn't lose one of his only friends either, though in truth there were times when he thought about Jack as more than a friend. He smiled in return, but did not say anything.

"Do you think you'll go back?" Jack asked.

"I think I need to," Ianto said. "To make amends…to atone for what I did, for the people who died. I know it's probably my death sentence, but Torchwood is all I know."

"I thought that too," Jack said quietly. "That after so long, it was all I could do. But there is more out there, if you look hard enough. You can make a difference doing something else."

"This is what I need to do right now," Ianto replied. "Face the consequences and live with them."

"I meant what I said," Jack told him. "I'll help in any way I can. Including meeting for drinks whenever your busy schedule permits."

"I suspect I'll be closely monitored," Ianto replied. "Probably on strict probation in terms of my hours, so hopefully they won't be too bad. I only file and make coffee, after all."

Jack leaned back with a grin. "From what I remember, the archives were a disaster, and our team ran on caffeine and adrenaline. You'll still have your work cut out for you. And I know you're capable of more."

"No, you don't," Ianto murmured. "And neither do they."

"Because you didn't want them to see," Jack said. "You're smarter and stronger than they could possibly imagine. If you're going to do this, then let them see everything you can do. Let them see  _you_."

Ianto finished his drink, too embarrassed to reply. But Jack's confidence made him feel better about returning to the Hub on Monday morning. Especially if he'd still be able to see Jack at night.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Ianto didn't go to the pub after his first day back. He texted Jack that it had gone as well as expected, which was not very well at all, and went home to shut himself away from the world and try to regain some measure of equilibrium with however many pints he had in his flat. It had been one of the hardest days he'd experienced at Torchwood Three, even when Lisa had been alive and hidden below him. The automatic urge to shy away from the others and watch them closely with resentment, or to sneak off to the basement and check on Lisa, had been almost overwhelming at times. He'd found himself heading toward Lisa's room more than once before he'd stopped, taking deep breaths to stay calm.

Owen gave him a cursory checkup, but still seemed pissed off. Tosh brought him coffee, awkwardly trying to reach out, but Ianto wasn't sure how to reach back, or if he even should. Gwen was somewhere in the middle; she seemed afraid more than anything, though whether she was afraid of Ianto or something else, he wasn't sure. She wasn't her usual self, though, and Ianto found he almost missed her overbearing compassion.

As for his boss…David Evans tried to act like everything was normal, only it felt so forced it was even worse than being ignored. They'd had a good working relationship until the night Lisa had been discovered, but Ianto knew it would be hard for Evans to trust him again. David Evans had a younger brother, Gareth, who'd been killed at Canary Wharf; Ianto had known him and worked with him, even gone out to the pubs on occasion with Gareth and several other blokes. The look on David's face when he'd first seen Lisa that night had been one of both fury and grief.

Deep down, Ianto wondered why Evans hadn't turned him in, or Retconned him, or even killed him. It would probably remain a mystery, as Evans had barely talked to him about it when he'd put Ianto on suspension. There were more than a few times that first day back where Ianto wanted to shout at him to get some sort of explanation, but he stopped himself every time. He'd punched his boss the night Lisa had died, and part of him still hated Evans for what had happened, but he wanted to stay at Torchwood. Or he thought he did.

Ianto slept terribly that night and woke up exhausted, dreading another day at work and wondering if he'd made the right decision in returning. The team began investigating several unusual weather disturbances, as well a strange case involving a pedophile who choked to death on roses. Ianto, as usual, cleaned up and made coffee, but spent most of his time away from the others in the tourist office or putting the archives back in order. Determined to make it to the pub that night for a good stiff drink, Ianto left as soon as he was dismissed, and didn't even bother heading home to change.

Jack arrived after Ianto's first glass of bourbon, and they retired to their what was now their usual table in the back. Ianto felt the tension almost drain away when he saw Jack; he ignored any other feelings stirring in his gut. Jack was his friend, nothing more, even when he flirted and dropped suggestive hints. Ianto had lost his girlfriend and shouldn't be thinking about anyone in that way, let alone Jack Harkness.

When Ianto told him about his first day back, Jack offered support and words of advice; when he brought up the weather patterns he'd found, Jack frowned; when Ianto offhandedly mentioned the rose petals, Jack sat up straight, looking terrified.

"Rose petals?" he asked. "Red rose petals?"

"Yes," said Ianto. "Why? Are you familiar with them? Is it something you recognize?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Yes, and it can't be a coincidence. It never is."

"What isn't?" asked Ianto. Jack rubbed his face.

"I went to a lecture yesterday for a friend. She believes in faeries. She thinks they're beautiful, takes pictures of them."

"Faeries?" asked Ianto. "Like, Tinkerbell?"

"Not nearly as cute," Jack replied, shaking his head. "No, these are malevolent. They control the elements, like the weather. And their calling card, in my experiences with them, has always been red rose petals."

"So, you think they're involved somehow?" Ianto asked.

"I'd say it's very likely," Jack replied. "Estelle saw them a few nights ago, now you're tracking strange weather. They're probably looking for—"

He was interrupted by his mobile phone, startling them both. Jack took the call, his face going pale as he talked. He told the other person to stay away from them, right where they were, then stood up and threw several pounds on the table. After hanging up, he explained that there was an emergency and apologized for leaving so abruptly before turning to go.

Covering the rest of the check, Ianto followed him from the pub. "What's wrong?" he asked. "It's something to do with the fairies, isn't it?"

Jack glanced at him with both surprise and fear on his face. Ianto rolled his eyes. "You warned someone to be careful, to stay where they were and not go near them. Was it your friend, Estelle?"

Jack was practically sprinting toward a large SUV nearby. "Yes, and I think they're after her. She saw them out at Roundstone Wood a few nights ago and took pictures. Something is going on, and I've got to stop it."

Ianto continued to follow, even letting himself into the SUV as Jack started the engine. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jack snapped. For the first time, Ianto was aware of more than Jack's charm and intelligence, his sadness and laughter. He was angry, and he was scared. Ianto tried to stay calm and offer support.

"I'm coming with you. I can help, especially if it's a Torchwood case."

"It's not a Torchwood case, and we're not calling them," Jack retorted. He did not ask Ianto to leave, but pulled out and began speeding toward his destination. "I'm not getting them involved."

"Okay, that's fine," Ianto soothed him, though he still wondered if he should call the team. "But maybe I can still help. Tell me about them, these faeries."

He listened as Jack talked, asking questions when appropriate. Jack directed him to a spare gun in the glove department. They reached his friend's house quickly—her name was Estelle Cole—and hurried inside with weapons drawn, Jack frantically calling her name. Rushing through the house they came out into the garden, where a frail old woman was lying on the wet ground, soaked through. She was still and pale, eyes gazing blankly at the dark sky, and Ianto slowed down, giving Jack some privacy when he realized the woman was dead.

Jack sank to the ground and took the old woman's head in her lap. He closed her eyes and bowed his head, his shoulders shaking silently. After a few moments, Jack stood and gazed at Ianto with red eyes.

"I'm sorry," Ianto offered. He wanted to reach out to Jack, but wasn't sure how the gesture would be received.

"We should call the police," Jack said, gazing around without seeing.

Ianto hated to ask, but knew he had to.

"Was it them?"

Jack nodded stoically. "She said they were here. Look around. It's a clear night, and yet it's soaking wet right here. She drowned in her own garden."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," Jack whispered, his eyes slipping shut. "She never hurt them, she loved them."

He started to walk away, but Ianto grabbed Jack by the arm and held tight. "Let me help," Ianto said quietly, calmly. "I'll call the police, and you can come back to my flat. We can talk, or have a drink, or—"

"It's fine," Jack said, throwing him off. "I'll be fine."

"You shouldn't be alone," Ianto replied. "She was obviously important to you."

Jack smiled sadly. "Yes, she was. Which is why I can't be here anymore." He turned to leave again.

"What about Torchwood?" Ianto asked. "I should call them." It was likely they had picked up the strange weather at Estelle's house, after all; Ianto wondered if Evans would call someone in to investigate it, or save it for the morning. Jack turned around, a flash of anger in his eyes before he passed a hand over them and sighed.

"I don't want them involved," Jack said. "I'll handle it."

"Handle what?" Ianto demanded.

"The ones that did this," Jack replied stiffly. "Just call the police for her body."

"And tell them what? That she drowned in a garden?"

"That you found her like this. I'll cover it up tomorrow. But right now, I need to leave. I'll see you later."

"Jack!"

But Jack left the house without another look back, and with a sigh, Ianto turned toward the dead woman on the ground. He took out his phone and called the police, then went back inside to wait. Jack had gone, which meant Ianto had no way home. He also had very little information for the police. He was frustrated and annoyed, but more than anything, he was concerned. Jack had been upset. Was Estelle a friend, relative? His mother? Grandmother?

As he waited for the police to arrive, Ianto walked around the house, hoping to learn more. A cat followed him around, rubbing against his legs as if it knew something was wrong. He noticed several of Estelle's photographs of the faeries she'd seemed to enjoy so much. And he also found a picture of Jack, or someone that looked exactly like him. Jack's father? Grandfather? It occurred to Ianto that perhaps it was Jack himself; he remembered the rumors from Torchwood One, that Jack was long-lived, and that he traveled through time. It would explain Jack's deep grief, if he had known Estelle intimately, as well as his reluctance to talk about it. Ianto was interrupted by the arrival of the police, however. He took the picture and slipped it into his pocket, hoping to give it to Jack. Perhaps he would even ask about it.

He gave his statement to the police, although he did not know much about Estelle Cole. He fudged the details of Jack's involvement as best as he could (and he was good), then left his name and number before setting off to phone for a cab. As he was dialing, he noticed a familiar SUV sitting at the corner of the street. With a sigh, he walked up and knocked on the passenger window.

Jack unlocked the door and Ianto sat down in the passenger seat. They were silent for a long moment, until Ianto slipped the photograph from his pocket and handed it to Jack.

"That's you, isn't it?"

Jack looked at the picture and nodded, obviously choked up. "Is that offer still on the table? A drink back at yours?"

"Absolutely," Ianto replied. He gave Jack the address to his flat and hoped it was halfway decent for visitors. Then again, Jack hardly seemed in any fit state to notice. Ianto only hoped he could help Jack through his grief. He understood more than anyone what it was like to lose someone special to the strange and unknown.

* * *

Jack had a drink—several, in fact. Enough that he opened up to Ianto and told him quite a bit about the photograph. He'd met Estelle Cole and fallen in love with her decades earlier, in London, before he had gone off to serve in the war. When he'd met Estelle again later as an older woman, he'd told her he was his father. It was clear that Jack was heartbroken, and Ianto simply let him talk about Estelle and his time with her, as well as his service in the war. He did not ask how it was possible, and he certainly didn't ask about the faeries; the loss was still too close, and even though Ianto was worried about the creatures attacking again, he sensed that waiting would be better.

Jack finally stood up to leave, but Ianto insisted he stay on the couch given how much he'd had to drink. He wanted to be sure the other man was all right, and hoped to learn more about the faeries in the morning. He gave Jack a pillow and a blanket and left him to sleep off some of his grief in the living room. As he got ready for bed, he tried not to think about Jack serving in World War II. Was he really that old, or had he time traveled somehow?

When Ianto woke up the next morning, Jack was already awake and poking around the tiny living room. After a quick shower, Ianto made them coffee and toast and sat down at his kitchen table. Jack sat across from him and took a sip of the warm brew, closing his eyes as he moaned almost indecently.

"This is brilliant," he said with another inappropriate sound. "Best coffee I've had in years."

"Thanks," Ianto replied, trying not to let Jack's reaction get to him. "There's more when you want it. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Jack replied, opening his eyes with a sad smile. "Thank you for last night."

"You're welcome," Ianto replied. "Although I didn't do much."

"I appreciate you handling things with the authorities," Jack said. "And not involving Torchwood."

"They may already be involved, if they picked up whatever happened at Estelle's house. Should they be involved?" Ianto asked, setting down his coffee. "Because if these creatures are killing people, that sounds like something they should be looking into."

"You're still referring to Torchwood as 'they'," Jack pointed out. Ianto shrugged and returned to his toast.

"I'm not part of the team, not really," he replied, trying not to sound bitter. "They barely noticed I was back, except to clean up and make coffee again."

Jack frowned. "Evans is an idiot," he said. "Why can't he see what you're capable of?"

"Because I used everything I'm capable of to hide Lisa and betray the team," Ianto replied bitterly. "I earned his trust and then lost it."

"And the others?" Jack asked, leaning forward. "What about them?"

"Why are we talking about this?" Ianto asked, not wanting to get into it. "We're supposed to be dealing with the faeries. Why did they kill Estelle? And will they kill again?"

Jack nodded. "They might, if they feel threatened."

"How did Estelle threaten them?" Ianto asked, and Jack frowned.

"By exposing them?" he suggested. "I don't know. But if they're back, with the weather and the rose petals, then they're here for a Chosen One."

As Jack explained what the faeries were looking for, and his own experiences with them in Lahore, Ianto grew more concerned. "How in the world do we find this child?" he asked. "We have to protect them!" Jack blew out a long breath.

"I don't know. But I do know this: we can't fight these things. If they're here for a Chosen One, we don't have a choice. They will kill to protect it."

"We can't let them take a child!" Ianto exclaimed. Jack scrubbed at his face.

"I know, I know. But they could destroy the world. I know them, Ianto. I've seen what they can do."

Ianto sat in silence. "So what do  _we_  do? Wait for these things to kill someone else? For a freak snow storm in the middle of October? For a child to disappear into thin air?"

Jack stared at the table long and hard before answering. "Look, I hate to ask this of you, but if you see or hear anything at the Hub, can you let me know? Text me or something?"

"What?" Ianto asked. "You want me to feed you classified information?"

"No, I want you to help me stop these things from hurting anyone else," Jack replied firmly. "None of them know what they're dealing with. I do. Evans would sell the world to save a child, and I suspect the others would follow him without question."

"Especially Gwen," Ianto muttered under his breath. Jack nodded.

"Is that the new PC? Bleeding heart?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Ianto replied.

"Then I need your help to do this. Just let me know if there are any more rose petals, any more weather patterns. Can you do that?"

Ianto stared at the table, debating with himself. He felt like he was turning traitor all over again. Yet he told himself that this time it was to save the world, not his girlfriend. He trusted Jack, who seemed to know what he was doing as much if not more than anyone else at Torchwood Three. He nodded, then stood to take his plate to the sink.

"Fine. I'll text you if anything comes up. But I won't be able to help. I don't go out in the field much, other than to drive them around, clean up, and dump the bodies. They'd be suspicious if I suddenly showed an interest in a case."

Jack grinned and followed him, and Ianto refilled both their cups. They stood side by side against the counter. It felt strangely domestic, and Ianto rather liked it. It was nice to not wake up alone in his flat. "You should train for more field work. You'd be brilliant."

"Not interested," Ianto told him. "I don't need danger and excitement. Saw enough of that at Torchwood One."

Jack made a face. "Sorry," he said. "I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine," Ianto replied waving him off. "But speaking of work, I should go. I'm usually there by eight, if not earlier."

"Guess that's my cue to leave, then."

"If you wait a minute, I'll walk out with you," Ianto replied. Jack nodded and finished his coffee as Ianto hurried to his room to grab his suit coat and wallet. He stopped at the threshold, however, and swore under his breath.

The entire room was a disaster. Drawers had been emptied, the bed pulled apart, the curtains torn. And everywhere were rose petals—on the floor, the bed, the dresser. A pile of rocks sat before the open window, and Ianto felt a chill down his back, feeling as if he were being watched.

"Jack?" he called, but his voice didn't seem to work. "Jack!"

Jack came running up behind him and stopped in his tracks. He didn't say anything, but continued into the room, gazing around. He picked up a handful of petals and crushed them in his fist.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice both angry and defeated.

"Why?" Ianto asked. "It's them, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's them. And I got you involved," Jack replied. "This is my fault."

"Bollocks," Ianto snapped. He grabbed his suit coat, shaking off several petals. "Torchwood got me involved. And I'm not going to let a few rocks and flowers scare me off. We're going to stop them."

He slammed the window shut and left the rest of the room exactly as it was. "Come on," he said. "Let's end this."

He locked the flat and parted ways with Jack outside on the pavement with the promise to text him any relevant information that came into the Hub that day. Though he did not say anything, he would also try to keep the others away from Estelle Cole's house. Determined to track down as much information as he could in the archives, Ianto hurried to work. He had a case to solve, and he would damn well do it—even if it meant he was once again keeping secrets.

* * *

In the end, it was a freak wind storm at a school that ended it. Ianto was monitoring the computers closely and immediately texted Jack. He held off on telling the others, which allowed Jack to get there before the rest of the team. He learned about a student, Jasmine Pearce, who seemed unaffected by the wind. Jack went to her house, where he found the faeries attacking a party. The girl was their Chosen One, running into the woods behind the house, ready, willing, and wanting to leave. Though her mother begged her to stay, Jack let her go, knowing the price to pay.

By the time the team arrived, Jack had already Retconned the girl's mother. They found the yard in ruins, her boyfriend dead, her daughter missing. When they arrived back at the Hub, Ianto dutifully presented the information he had "found" in the archives on the faeries and their Chosen Ones. They rightfully concluded that the girl had been taken, though there was some disagreement as to whether she had gone willingly. As expected, Gwen was strongly affected, determined to continue tracking down the faeries to find the girl. Yet Evans sent them all home early, telling them it was over and retreating to his office in defeat. They might be upset about losing the girl, but only Ianto knew that Jack had saved the world by letting her go.

Leaving with the others, Ianto turned down their unexpected invitation to join them for a drink and headed to the Quiver and Quill to find Jack. He was sitting at their regular table, staring at his napkin with a double scotch in hand; apparently Jack had been affected as well. Ianto ordered a pint, and they raised a silent toast to both Estelle and Jasmine.

"Thank you for your help today," Jack said. "I know it couldn't have been easy."

"What, keeping secrets? Lying to the others?" Ianto replied with a crooked grin. "Easy. Saving the world from evil faeries? That was new."

"We did good," Jack replied with a grin. "We should try it again."

Ianto snorted into his glass. "You should come back to Torchwood then. With your experience, they'd have you back in a heartbeat and probably put you in charge."

Jack shook his head. "I'm done with Torchwood," he said. "Never going back."

Ianto sighed. After a long sip of beer, he took a risk. "Why did you leave?" he asked quietly. Jack shook his head again, clearly unwilling to answer. Ianto pressed him. "You're good at this, Jack—they could really use you. What drove you away?"

Jack downed his scotch, though he did not order another. "Didn't you hear the rumors?" he asked bitterly. "I killed my team!"

"I don't believe it," Ianto replied instantly. "Of course you didn't."

"How do you know?" Jack grinned wolfishly at him. "Maybe I'm not what I seem."

"If you killed them, you'd be locked up, executed, Retconned, on the run—not still living here in Cardiff, out in the open, consulting with London before it was destroyed," Ianto replied. "More importantly, it's not you. You are not the type of man to kill your team. I know that."

"You don't know me at all," Jack pointed out. "You still haven't asked how I knew Estelle during World War II and yet can be sitting here with you sixty years later looking little older than that photograph you nicked for me."

Ianto narrowed his eyes and nodded. He finished his beer and set it down, then leaned forward. "People talked about you at Torchwood One, you know," he started. "They said you were a flirt, which certainly seems to be true. That Yvonne Hartmann hated you, which I know was true. And that you were extremely long-lived, which would certainly explain why you're all over Torchwood records and still hanging around after serving in World War II." He paused and smirked. "But it was also said you were a Companion to the Doctor. You're a time traveler, Jack. Not a murderer."

Jack was staring at him in shock, before shaking his head and blowing out a long breath. "Damn, you're good," he said.

"Because I'm right?" Ianto asked.

"For the most part," Jack replied. "Yes, I'm a flirt, and yes, Yvonne hated me. And yes, I was a Companion to the Doctor. That's the only reason I joined Torchwood, and why I'm still here: I'm waiting for him."

"What?" asked Ianto, now the one surprised. "You're waiting for the Doctor? Here in Cardiff?"

"He uses the Rift to refuel his ship," Jack replied. "I've been waiting a long time for him to return so I can ask him some questions, maybe even go back home."

"Home?" Ianto felt stupid. It hadn't occurred to him that if Jack was a time-traveler, then there was a good chance he was from another time or place entirely.

Jack leaned forward. "I'm not from around here," he said.

"This place or this time?"

"Both."

Ianto was quiet for a moment. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked. Jack shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't tend to tell people things. It never works out when I do. But you figured some of it out, and the rest…I feel like I can trust you. You trusted me, when you told me about your suspension, and when you helped me today."

"Torchwood is supposed to capture and detain the Doctor," Ianto pointed out. "We did, at Canary Wharf."

Jack snorted. "He probably let you think so. Did you talk to him?"

"Too busy trying to stay alive," Ianto replied dryly. "I only know what happened from reading the reports after. The Doctor is the one who stopped the Cybermen and the Daleks."

"He's an amazing man," Jack murmured. "Or he was, when I first knew him."

Alarm bells went off in Ianto's head. "How long have you been waiting for him?"

"A long time," said Jack, then held up his hand when Ianto would have asked how long. "Long enough that I'd rather not give up all my secrets at once."

"So if the Doctor comes back to Cardiff, you'll leave with him?" Ianto asked, and Jack nodded. "Because you traveled with him. You're not from here so you must have got stuck here." Another nod. "And that's why you left Torchwood, to wait for the Doctor?"

"No, I joined Torchwood to wait for the Doctor. I left because Alex Hopkins murdered the entire team of people I worked with. He saw something, something horrible, and couldn't live with it, so he killed them all and then blew his brains out right in front of me."

"Oh."

The conversation stopped after that. Ianto tried to wrap his mind around it all…Jack a Companion to the Doctor, Torchwood's number one enemy; stranded on Earth for years, if not decades; witness to the horrific murder of his team. It was a wonder that he wasn't a gibbering mess. Instead, Jack was perhaps one of the strongest people Ianto had ever met, to survive so much and remain so hopeful.

Ianto realized that the thought of Jack leaving made him sad, and he selfishly hoped it wasn't for a long time yet. He reprimanded himself, though, because Jack was a good man who deserved better than waiting around Cardiff for a temporal ride home. When he found his Doctor and could finally go back to his own time, Ianto would be happy for him, even though he would miss him. Moved by Jack's story, he reached across and touched Jack's hand, surprised when the other man grabbed it and held tight.

"I'm sorry for all you've been through," Ianto said quietly. "I won't ask about Torchwood or your past anymore."

Jack smiled weakly. "Thank you, but I doubt it. You're a curious man, Ianto Jones."

"Perhaps," Ianto replied, pulling back. "But I try to respect people's boundaries. I apologize if I crossed one right now."

"You didn't." Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't usually talk to people about my life, and you can probably imagine why. It's nice to be able to, once in a while. Thanks for that." He paused. "But don't tell."

Ianto laughed, breaking the tension. "Obviously! No one would believe me anyway!"

Jack cocked his head. "What did you tell Torchwood about the faeries?" he asked curiously.

"I told them I found some information about the faeries and their Chosen One in the archives," Ianto replied with a casual shrug. "After sharing it, they came to their own conclusions about Jasmine. Misdirection is easy."

"Oh, Ianto Jones," Jack laughed quietly, shaking his head. "You are one to watch."

Ianto rolled his eyes, and talk soon turned toward other topics. Jack still seemed down at times about Estelle and Jasmine, and Ianto did his best to keep the conversation lighthearted. They even played a game of pool, though Jack made so many inappropriate comments about the cue and balls and Ianto's arse that they barely managed to play a decent game. Ianto still won easily, which was when he noticed it was nearing midnight. They paid their tabs and parted ways.

As Ianto walked home in the dark, he decided that as long as Jack was around, going back to Torchwood wasn't so bad. It was good to have someone to talk to, who could relate to things like aliens and faeries. The thought of Jack leaving filled him with a deep sadness, even though he'd only known the man for a short time. If Jack left Earth, Ianto would probably leave Torchwood.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we start getting into the episodes, but with this different dynamic. Some episodes change, some don't. Some barely get a mention, others get longer chapters than this. I hope they work and that you enjoy something both different yet familiar. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The following week was quiet and slow. The team still didn't talk to him much, though Tosh continued to make an effort. Nothing came through the Rift and there weren't many Weevil calls, which left them all with time to work on some projects. Ianto found solace in his never-ending work in the archives, cataloging and logging all the untagged artifacts and files, organizing the ones that had been identified but stored haphazardly. It meant he could work on his own, without his coworker's silence and stares.

Working downstairs also meant he didn't have to hide what he'd done with the case on the faeries. He'd once again kept secrets, and he felt like he had betrayed the team all over again. David Evans had given him a second chance in coming back to work, and the first thing Ianto had done was given classified information to a non-Torchwood civilian; he'd be fired and Retconned for sure if Evans ever found out Ianto's role in Jasmine's disappearance, even if Jack had saved the world.

He saw Jack at the pub most nights. He seemed to be doing better, and Ianto was glad that Jack seemed to be recovering from Estelle's loss. Yet in spite of their success with the faeries and their continuing friendship, Ianto found himself weighed down with his own grief and guilt. Perhaps it was too isolated in the archives; he spent all day with his thoughts, and they were not great company. He thought about Lisa, and the team; about Jack, and the day he'd leave with the Doctor; constantly mourning what he had lost and what he would never have.

Though he tried to hide it with Jack, the other man noticed and expressed his concern. Ianto assured Jack that he was fine, but deep down he suspected that the depression he'd fallen into after Lisa's death was returning in full force. He missed her terribly and still felt the shame and guilt of her death, as well as his survival. And his time with Jack was becoming less of a distraction; it was instead becoming something Ianto dreaded losing even more after the pain of losing Lisa.

And then the team was called out to the Brecon Beacons, to a series of disappearances that Evans wanted to make sure were not Rift-related, even so far out. After filling in the team and asking Ianto to pack the camping equipment, David ordered him to go home and change. Ianto was going into the field with the rest of them. It seemed even Evans had noticed how Ianto continued to isolate himself and was determined to bring him along.

It was a baptism by fire if there ever was one. By the time he returned to Cardiff twenty-four hours later, Ianto was broken, bleeding, and bruised. He hurt in places he didn't know could hurt so badly, and every time he closed his eyes, he pictured bodies hanging from the ceiling, a meat cleaver at his neck.

He did not go to the pub. He laid on the sofa, staring at the wall and trying not to fall apart. A glass of water was on the table beside him, next to a bottle of painkillers from Owen. He was contemplating how many to take—the recommended amount, enough to knock him out, or the whole lot—when Jack texted him.

_Saw something on the news about the Beacons. That you guys?_

Ianto laughed to himself. It shouldn't have been them. Cannibals had nothing to do with Torchwood. Only they'd been dragged into it anyway and forced to deal with it. Beaten and tenderized and almost strung up for dinner. His reply was short.

_Yep. I hate the countryside._

He could almost picture Jack grinning, but he meant it. He'd loved camping in the outdoors with Lisa, but he would never try it again, not now.

_That bad, huh?_

_We were kidnapped, shot, choked, kicked, and almost bled to death. So yes, that bad._

Ianto set down his phone, hoping that was the end of it. He was in pain, and so tired. Everything hurt, and all he could see when he closed his eyes was the mad face of the cannibal leader, brandishing a bat, laughing as he held up a silver knife. Ianto wanted to be stronger, but he wasn't, not then. He was still trying to make it through a normal day, yet alone a day filled with blood and bruises.

_Are you all right?_

_I'm alive,_  Ianto replied, wondering if there was a way to convey bitterness over text message. He went for sarcasm instead.  _At least_   _I'm not cannibal fodder._

_I'm coming over._

_Don't bother. I'm not good company._

_You're hurt. I'm coming over anyway._

Ianto dropped the phone and laughed to himself. He reached blindly for the bottle of pills and popped several in his mouth, swallowing them with half the water before setting it down and closing his eyes. He squeezed them shut, refusing to cry, or scream, or shout. Instead, he simply drifted, feeling as if he were both trapped inside his bruised body and outside looking in. He was numb to everything and didn't care whether he ever woke up again. He didn't care about anything. It was suddenly all too much, like something within him had snapped in the wilderness.

And then he felt a hand slapping him his cheek, calling his name. He groaned, and it stopped only to caress his forehead, brushing dirty, matted hair from his forehead. He batted it away, opening one eye and then the other to find Jack hovering over him. With another groan, he let his arm fall over his eyes and tried to sink back into oblivion. Jack wouldn't let him.

"Ianto!" he said sharply. "Wake up. How many pills did you take?" Ianto shook his head. Jack took his face between his hands, forced him to open his eyes and look into Jack's worried face; it was slightly blurry.

"How many did you take?" he asked again. Ianto tried to turn and look at the bottle, only to see it had tipped over on the table and scattered pills everywhere. It certainly appeared as if he'd taken a lot. How many had he taken? Owen told him to take two…they were strong, after all…but he'd taken three, maybe four. He tried to tell Jack, but his lips didn't want to move, and his voice wouldn't work it was so dry now.

"Shit," Jack murmured. "We're going to the hospital."

"No!" Ianto said, his voice hoarse and low. He pushed Jack's hands away and struggled to sit up, feeling dizzy. "No, I'm fine, doctor even said so. I only took three or four. It's not …I'm not trying to…" He trailed off with half another bitter laugh. "Not really, anyway."

"Not really?" Jack demanded, sounding angry. "You're not really trying to kill yourself?"

"Fuck off," Ianto muttered, standing on unsteady legs. He took two steps and felt his legs buckle beneath him. Jack caught him, rucking up his dirty shirt. He must have seen the bruises on Ianto's side, because he swore loudly.

"What the hell happened?" he asked. "Never mind. You need to clean up first."

Ianto groaned as he walked, Jack practically carrying him. "No, I need a bed."

He could hear the grin in Jack's voice. "Well, I appreciate the thought, but I'm not sure you're up for it tonight."

"Up for what?" Ianto asked, looking at Jack in confusion. The other man shook his head and smiled, continuing to move them step by step toward Ianto's room and the bathroom. Staring at Jack's profile, Ianto was struck by his strong jawline, perfect hair and teeth, and bright blue eyes."Oh," he said, feeling his face flush as he realized Jack's unspoken implication.

Jack laughed softly and led him to the bathroom. Ianto, however, would not let Jack follow him in. "I can take care of myself," he muttered, shutting the door but not locking it just in case he did need assistance. He was still feeling dizzy, not to mention sore and exhausted. He peeled off his clothes and binned them, then stepped into the shower and sighed. The hot water falling against his skin was painful and yet felt glorious. It relaxed tense muscles and most importantly began to wash away the dirt and blood of the last twenty-four hours. He scrubbed his hair and body twice, then stood and let the water beat his shoulders, until Jack pounded on the door and shouted for him. With reluctance he turned off the shower and stepped out, belatedly remembering that he hadn't brought any clothing with him and would have to go back into his room clad in only a towel. Which wasn't usually a problem, except that normally he didn't have company waiting outside for him—especially male company.

Glancing at his reflection in the foggy mirror, Ianto grimaced. He looked terrible, from the lump on his head and the bruises on his torso, to the cut on his neck and the dark circles of pain and exhaustion under his eyes. Yet there was nothing to be done about his appearance, and he decided he couldn't be bothered to care, even in front of Jack. He'd been captured and beaten by cannibals; of course he wasn't looking his best.

Opening the door, he gingerly made his way to the bed, where he sat down for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. Jack was beside him in an instant, his hands moving as if he wanted to reach out and touch Ianto, though he never did. Ianto stared at the floor, too tired to get up again.

"What do you need?" Jack asked quietly. Ianto blew out a breath.

"Clothes would be nice," he replied, his voice sounding more steady than it had earlier. "Clean, warm clothes." He pointed toward a few drawers and Jack gathered him a pair of boxers, flannel pants, a shirt, and warm socks. He brought them over and looked ready to help him into them. Ianto waved him away. "I can dress myself," he muttered. He almost asked Jack to turn around, then once again decided it didn't matter. He dropped his towel and began to pull on the boxers and pants, grimacing as he bent over. He felt Jack's eyes on him the entire time, radiating concern.

When he was finished, he moved toward his side of the bed and climbed in. To his surprise, he felt Jack sit down on the other side of the bed.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked quietly. Once again Ianto felt the tears behind his eyes, and once again he forced them back. He took a deep breath and began to tell Jack everything, from being ordered to join the team in the field, to losing the car, getting captured with Tosh, and helping her escape. Jack stopped him, reaching out to brush a hand against his head.

"So that's how you got the goose egg," he murmured. "Good instincts." His touch was gentle, but Ianto pulled away, feeling awkward. Why was Jack sitting on his bed touching his face again? Right. The camping trip from hell. He continued, but faltered quickly. Jack laid down beside him, leaning on his right elbow facing Ianto. He placed his other hand on Ianto's shoulder, his touch warm and welcoming.

"It's okay. You're safe now," he said quietly. "Whatever happened out there is over."

Another bitter laugh escaped, and Ianto scrubbed his face once more to regain his composure.

"I saw the worst nightmares you could imagine, come to life at Canary Wharf," Ianto said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Bodies ripped apart, blasted into dust. Friends and coworkers turned into mindless killing machines. Lisa, half converted—suffering and in pain." He let out a long breath, glanced sideways at Jack, taking strength from his care and concern, and continued. "But through it all, I knew it was alien—creatures from another planet, even another dimension. It was other, and that didn't make it easier, but it…" He trailed off.

"But it did," he finally said. "It was alien, it was evil, and it was so much easier to accept than…than what I saw out there. Today."

"You don't have to say anything else," Jack said. "You should get some rest."

"People have been disappearing for years," Ianto continued as if Jack hadn't spoken. "The villagers ate them. They ate them, Jack! And after Tosh escaped, they tied me up, took a baseball bat, and began to hit me—to tenderize me, so the meat was more tender."

"Oh my god," Jack whispered, his face pale and shocked.

"And then they put a knife to my neck to bleed me, like veal," Ianto said. As he spoke, he felt a spark of anger begin to grow, that this had happened, that he had this memory now. "I have scars from Torchwood One, from what happened at Canary Wharf. Reminders of an alien invasion." He turned his neck, showing Jack the cut there. "Now I have another scar, but this one will remind me of something worse: humanity turning on its own. Kidnapping and killing and eating one another, for decades out in the countryside." He shut his eyes and rolled over, hissing in pain when he landed on a particularly bad bruise.

"I shouldn't be here," he said. "I shouldn't have survived Canary Wharf, but I did. I shouldn't have survived the night Lisa died, but I did. I shouldn't have survived out there today, but I did. Honestly…I'm tired of surviving."

He felt an arm wrap around him. He froze, but Jack was murmuring soft words against his ear, nonsense, actually, but it was too much, and he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Yet he cried silently, until his chest was so tight he could barely breathe and he forced himself to take deep breaths and calm down. When he could speak again, he apologized.

"I'm sorry," he said, wriggling out of Jack's grasp. "You should probably go."

"I'm not leaving," Jack said. He moved away, giving Ianto his space. "You've been through a major trauma. I'm surprised you didn't go to A & E. What did the doctor say?"

"No concussion, no internal injuries, and nothing broken, but a twisted knee, several contusions, and lots of bruising, especially the ribs."

"All right," said Jack, and he stood up. "I'm glad I don't have to keep waking you up to check on you. You can sleep straight through, and I'll be in the other room."

"No," Ianto said, struggling to sit. "You don't have to stay."

"I am anyway," Jack replied. "You have a nice couch and if you could spare that blanket and pillow from last time, I'd appreciate it." He held up a hand when Ianto started to protest. "Ianto, you're hurt. You shouldn't be alone. I won't bother you, but if you need me, I'll be in the other room. Okay?"

Ianto sighed. A part of him was mortified at the thought of Jack staying to take care of him like he was some sort of invalid; but the rest of him was glad that the other man would be in the next room. He needed time and space to heal away from Torchwood—something he hadn't had in the aftermath of Canary Wharf—but he didn't want to be alone. He trusted Jack, knowing he'd experienced his own share of trauma both with Torchwood and on his own.

"Thank you," he said. His body relaxed, and he closed his eyes. He heard Jack come around the bed and turn off the light. Then he felt soft lips against his forehead.

"You're safe," Jack murmured. "Get some sleep. I'll be in the other room."

Ianto nodded, a smile tugging at tired lips. He drifted into sleep thinking about, of all things, sharing a cup of coffee with Jack in the morning, like they had when Jack had stayed over the night Estelle had died. It had been nice, waking up to someone in his flat. He hoped the thought was enough to hold back any nightmares.

* * *

It wasn't.

He woke twice. The first time, he didn't even remember what he'd been dreaming and sat up with a gasp. His heart was racing, and he knew he wouldn't fall asleep right away, so he went to the bathroom, avoiding looking at his bruised and battered body, and returned to bed. Jack was standing there waiting for him, looking worried, and Ianto assured him he was fine before sending him back to the sofa and crawling into bed, feeling very alone.

The second time was much worse, and it had nothing to do with the trip to the Beacons. It was Canary Wharf, Cybermen rounding up his friends, coworkers being blown into dust, Lisa on the table, screaming in pain before reaching up to grab him by the neck and choke him while professing her love, then Jack rushing in to stop her, but being blasted by a bolt of electricity strong enough to kill him—

Ianto sat up with a shout, throwing off the blanket as if it were trying to smother him. He was soaked in sweat, but started shivering in the cool air of his bedroom. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he laid his head on top and tried to slow his racing heart with deep, slow breaths. Jack came bursting through the door, startling him even more.

"Are you okay?" he asked, hurrying over to the bedside. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," Ianto replied wearily. "Just another bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jack sat down opposite from him, laying a hand on his shoulder, which was when Ianto noticed the other man was wearing only his boxers and undershirt.

"Nope," said Ianto, jumping up. "Think I'll use the loo and try again. Eventually I'll pass out from exhaustion, right?" He left without waiting for Jack's answer, striding toward the bathroom as fast as he could. By the time he shut the door behind him, he was dizzy. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and let his head fall to his chest, breathing deeply. It was too much—his injuries, the nightmares, Jack in his flat.

Oddly enough, it was the last that was particularly unsettling. It wasn't that Ianto hadn't thought about Jack in that way before; he had, and had dismissed it as nothing more than loneliness and a bit of hero worship. Jack was charming and attractive, and Ianto enjoyed the time they spent together, whether it was at the pub, or solving the case with the fairies. Now Jack was in his flat, in his room, in his  _bed_ wearing nothing but boxers, and Ianto was finding it hard to dismiss anything about the way he was feeling. But he sensed that getting involved in any way with a man like Jack Harkness was probably very dangerous, especially when he was feeling vulnerable.

After using the toilet and splashing his face with water, Ianto returned to his room to find Jack still sitting on his bed, this time with his feet up and a book on his lap; apparently he'd raided Ianto's bookshelf and decided to start  _Foundation_. Ianto couldn't help but stare, for Jack was exceptionally attractive in his shorts and undershirt. Shaking his head of such thoughts once more, Ianto made a motion with his hand.

"I feel much better," he said. "You don't have to stay and read me a story."

Jack grinned. "I wasn't going to read to you, although I certainly could. But I am going to stay. I'm worried you might aggravate your injuries if you have more nightmares."

"I can take care of myself," Ianto protested, climbing into bed feeling like a liar. He felt old and tired, stiff and sore. But there wasn't anything Jack could do about those things.

"I know you can, but I can help," Jack replied. He rolled his eyes when Ianto turned and gave him a skeptical look. "And I can be a perfect gentleman," he added with another grin.

"I wasn't worried about you being a gentleman," Ianto muttered under his breath. "I'm more worried about me."

There was a punctuated silence that let Ianto digest what he had let slip. It must have been the pills and his injuries and his exhaustion, because he was normally more careful about his words. Regretting it immediately, he rolled over to apologize, only to turn right into Jack, who was leaning over him as if to whisper something in his ear. Jack's eyes were wide, but he didn't move, and neither did Ianto, and they stared at one another, an electric tension flowing between them that Ianto felt settling low in his gut.

"Situation noted," Jack murmured back, eyeing Ianto's lips. "And filed away for another time."

"Jack, I—" Ianto started, but Jack closed the distance between them and kissed him, a short simple kiss that was nevertheless practically perfect. Ianto found himself relaxing almost immediately, and then Jack moved away, running a tender hand over Ianto's face.

"Get some rest," he said quietly. "I'll be right here."

Ianto gazed into his eyes, saw nothing there but honesty and affection, and nodded. He laid his head down on his pillow, still turned toward Jack, and fell asleep watching the other man read. He didn't dream of Cybermen, but of waking up with Jack next to him, and maybe another kiss.

* * *

When Ianto woke up the next morning, he was alone. He had a vague memory of falling asleep next to Jack reading, and of waking up at one point to find Jack asleep beside him, Jack's hand resting lightly on his hip. Yet now the bed was empty, and Ianto was surprised to find himself disappointed. He remembered a kiss from the night before, and tried not to think about Jack in his bed, and kissing him again.

He was startled from his reverie by a sound from the kitchen, which was when he noticed the smell of coffee and toast. Sitting gingerly, Ianto was surprised when his body didn't protest too much. He was still stiff and very sore, but the raging headache was only a dull throb, and the sharp burn of the cuts on his neck and wrists had faded as well. More than anything, he was thirsty.

Ianto walked slowly to the bathroom to clean up, then made his way to the kitchen, where he found Jack setting out eggs, toast, and cheese at the table. He inhaled deeply and smiled; it was a brilliant way to wake up.

"Good morning," Jack said when he noticed Ianto standing in the doorway. "Hungry?"

"Good morning," Ianto replied, unable to stop staring at Jack's lips. They had felt so good against his own when he'd woken in the middle of the night. "And yes."

Jack motioned him toward the table and poured him a cup of coffee. "I hope you don't mind that I made breakfast, but I've been up for a while and was starting to get hungry. Did you sleep all right?" he asked, sitting down across from Ianto. "You didn't seem to have any more problems."

"Yes, I slept much better. Thank you," Ianto replied, awkwardly clearing his throat. "For staying, that is."

Jack studied him and smiled, helping himself to some toast. "How do you feel?" he asked. "All things considered."

Ianto started with coffee; while it wasn't the same as his, it was quite good. "I feel better. Still like I was tenderized like a piece of meat—oh wait, I was," he replied. Jack frowned slightly, so Ianto set his mug down and continued. "But everything hurts less. Nothing some ibuprofen and rest won't fix."

"Good." Jack's free hand twitched, but stayed on the table. "Do you remember much about last night?"

"Oh god, I said all kinds of things, didn't I?" Ianto groaned, rubbing his hands across his face and trying to think of what he might have said that was embarrassing. "It was the medication, I—"

Jack leaned forward and touched his arm. "I hope it wasn't the medication," he said softly. "Because there was something you said that I'd really like to explore some more."

Ianto swallowed and met his gaze. "The bit about not being a gentleman?"

Jack nodded. "I hope that wasn't the pills talking."

"Maybe not," Ianto admitted. "Only I'm not the type to sleep around."

"Who said anything about sleeping around?" Jack murmured. "I was thinking…maybe when you feel better…dinner, a movie?"

Ianto knew he was wide-eyed and staring, but he couldn't help it. "Are you…are you asking me out on a date?"

"Interested?" Jack asked, trying to sound casual and failing. He sighed and set down his toast. "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked, not when you're still hurt."

"It's not that," Ianto replied, finding his voice. "But…you're leaving. With the Doctor. Someday." He shrugged. "And I'm Torchwood. A normal life, yet alone a long one, is hardly in the cards for me."

Now it was Jack's turn to stare, his eyes filled with sadness and desire. Ianto wanted to say yes, he really did – and that surprised him, the realization that he liked Jack and wanted to go on that date. Only how could he get involved with a man who was simply passing time on Earth before he left to travel back to his own century? Ianto was still getting over losing Lisa, and he already knew losing Jack as a friend would be hard; he couldn't make it harder by losing Jack as something more.

"You're right," Jack replied. "I could leave any day. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, knowing that…only I'd really like to…if things were different. Just so you know." He offered a small smile, which Ianto returned.

"I would too," Ianto replied quietly. "If things were different."

There was an awkward silence before Jack cleared his throat. "So what are you going to do today? I hope Evans gave you the day off?"

"Yes, he did," Ianto replied. "He'll probably use it to figure out what the hell to do with me now that he knows I'm rubbish in the field."

Jack frowned. "That doesn't sound like what happened, you know."

Ianto rubbed the knot on his head. "I got captured, tortured, and almost killed. That's why I'm the archivist."

"No, you got ambushed, and you kept your wits long enough to give your teammate the opportunity to escape and get help. She's alive because of you." Jack seemed convinced, but Ianto knew he was wrong. He hadn't saved anyone, he'd failed and got himself beaten up.

"I'm alive because they saved my arse," Ianto replied bitterly. "There is no way they'll want a liability like me in the field."

Jack stared at him like he'd grown another head. "You're delusional," he offered conversationally. "And if you don't believe me, then let me train you."

"Train me?" Ianto exclaimed. "What the hell for?"

"Field duty," Jack replied. "Standard operating procedures, weapons training—"

"I had both in London and renewed my certification after coming to Three," Ianto told him.

"Then use it!" Jack told him. "You can do this!"

"Maybe I don't want to!" Ianto snapped back. He stood to take his plate to the sink. "Did it ever occur to you that I'm good at what I do around the Hub? Archiving, filing, organizing? I know that place better than anyone except maybe Evans. I know what's in the archives, I know what we need when we need it, and I know how to find it. I have contacts across the city, and I even have the Queen on speed dial! I don't need to shoot aliens to do my job."

He leaned forward to calm himself and heard rather than saw Jack bring his own plate over and stand beside him. "Did it ever occur to you that you're good at what you do before right now?" he asked quietly.

Ianto thought about it and started to laugh silently. "As a matter of fact, no," he said, standing straight.

"It's true, though," Jack said. "Even if they can't see it. I can see it, so make them see it!"

"It's not—"

Jack stepped forward and kissed him, and this time it was longer, more intense than the night before. It was amazing, and Ianto lost himself to it until he remembered that anything he started with Jack was doomed from the start. Reluctantly he pulled away, both of them breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry," Jack started, and Ianto stopped him.

"Don't be," Ianto replied. "I'm not."

Jack cocked his head, looking hopeful. "So that date…"

"I can't," Ianto whispered. Jack sighed and leaned his forehead against Ianto's.

"I know," he said. "I hate it, but I know." He kissed Ianto once more before stepping away. "I should go, let you rest now that I know you're okay. You'll be all right on your own?"

"Of course," Ianto replied, even though a part of him wanted Jack to stay. But then it would only get harder and harder to resist the thought of kissing him again…the thought of more…so it was probably better for Jack to go. "I'll most likely sleep all day," he offered with a wry smile. Jack nodded.

"Good. Call me if you need anything, all right?" Ianto opened his mouth to protest, but Jack stopped him. "I mean it. Call me, anytime, for anything. Do you want me to bring something to eat later?"

Ianto nodded. "Yes, that would be great, thank you. As long as it's not meat."

For a moment, Ianto thought Jack was going to kiss him again, but he simply smiled and nodded. "You're welcome. I'll come by later with dinner, then. Pasta, maybe."

Jack left shortly after that, and Ianto collapsed on his couch. He laid his hand over his eyes and sighed as he thought about how much had happened to him in the last forty-eight hours. Strangely enough, he felt better about the ordeal in the Beacons after a night of sleep. His wounds were healing, and he almost believed what Jack had said about his performance in the field. Instead, it was Jack himself that weighed on Ianto's mind now.

Jack had asked him out on a date. They had kissed, and Jack had asked him out on a date, and Ianto had said no, even though he'd wanted to say yes. He felt like an idiot and a heel for refusing, though he knew it couldn't happen: Jack was a time traveler, waiting to leave one day to travel back to his own time. Ianto couldn't bear the thought of starting something that could be over in a month; his heart couldn't take it. And then there was Torchwood, of course; even if Jack did stay, Ianto couldn't guarantee he'd be alive long, whether he went back in the field or not.

And yet, the memory of Jack's lips haunted him. It had felt so good, so right, kissing Jack. They could be amazing together…if only they could actually be together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that look at Countrycide! What about the last chapter, with Small Worlds? Do let a girl know, as I would really like to hear what you think of this alternate look at the episodes.  
> If you know me on Tumblr, you know I'm not a big fan of Ianto being so traumatized in the Beacons that Jack has to shower and bathe him and put him to bed. My headcanon sees him as dealing with it on his own, probably rather poorly; and as a survivor of Canary Wharf, he recognizes there are actually worse things than cannibals in the world. However, I've written that before and it didn't fit with this storyline and the developing relationship between Jack and Ianto. So we get Jack rushing over to help Ianto after Countrycide (In Broken, he takes some pills and calls Mandy. In my mind, Jack is replacing Mandy in many ways. However, there will be no Savior storyline.) And it set up their kiss, which I hope you enjoyed. Poor, silly boys! Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess what's next! :-)  
> And thank you for the comments, it is always a relief to know when someone is still reading and it's not utter tripe! Thank you!

Chapter Five

Dinner with Jack that night was awkward, both of them much quieter than usual. Ianto was still tired and sore, and now he was confused by his feelings about what had happened between them that morning. Jack seemed distracted, almost distant. He tried to act normal, but did not stay long, and Ianto worried that their friendship might be irreparably damaged by their kiss.

Ianto slept restlessly and wished Jack was still there. His presence the night before had helped Ianto through the pain and the nightmares, and waking up with Jack in his flat had been comforting. Ianto missed being in a relationship where he could fall asleep and wake up with another person, especially someone he cared about. And he was starting to realize that he cared about Jack. A lot.

He stayed home for a second day; apparently Owen had convinced David Evans to give him and Tosh another day to recover. He certainly didn't feel up to going to the pub, where he'd have to explain his cuts and bruises to the barman and some of the other locals he'd come to know. And while he wanted to see Jack, at the same time the offer of the date that Ianto had turned down lay awkwardly between them.

Jack texted to see how he was feeling, and called later that night. Ianto heard the noise of the pub behind him, and knew Jack was there, maybe even sitting at their regular table, while Ianto sipped hot tea by himself in his flat. He hated being alone and already missed spending time with Jack. Yet he had to go back to work the next day and needed to let his body heal, so he assured Jack he was doing fine and went to bed early, sleeping poorly once more.

Going back to work was both difficult and a relief. He was stiff and sore, emotionally exhausted, and worried about what the others would think of his failure in the countryside, but he wasn't sitting around his flat feeling sorry for himself and thinking about Jack. He went in early and headed straight for the coffee machine, losing himself in the familiar routine of brewing drinks for the team. Tosh came in a few minutes later and rushed over to him, hugging him fiercely as if to reassure herself that he was alive and all right. He found some of his anxiety lessening as she thanked him for saving her life; he hadn't, but at least she didn't blame him for getting caught in the first place.

David Evans also expressed concern for Ianto's injuries, his distant demeanor apparently on hold as he came out to greet Ianto. He accepted a mug of coffee with a smile Ianto hadn't seen for weeks, and asked to speak with him later that morning. Ianto was leery, expecting a dressing-down and confused by Evans's unexpectedly positive response.

Owen came in then, and he was equally as solicitous, insisting on an exam in the medical bay; Ianto half wondered if the team was under some sort of alien influence. The doctor even asked Ianto how he was doing mentally, and if he needed anything to sleep. Given how poorly he'd been sleeping, Ianto accepted some pills for the nights he didn't go to the pub. Gwen was still out owing to her more serious gunshot wounds, and Ianto bit back the guilty feeling of being glad she was gone; her overdramatic nature was not one he could handle his first day back.

When he went to see David Evans, Ianto was surprised once again: Evans spoke to him about his actions in the field and praised him for his quick thinking in not only tracking down the SUV, but in giving Tosh a chance to escape.

"We shouldn't have been caught in the first place, sir," Ianto replied. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

Evans frowned in response. He was only thirty-six years old, yet leadership seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders, particularly since the destruction of Torchwood One and the loss of his younger brother. His hair was prematurely grey, and his green eyes reflected intelligence tempered with a great weariness. "I'm not offering trite sentiment, Ianto," he said. "I'm genuinely impressed. I'm not sure many people would have done what you did to get her out."

"I got myself knocked out and tenderized," Ianto replied.

"You took a hit so Tosh could get help," Evans said.

"Tosh got choked and captured," Ianto pointed out. He couldn't seem to stop dwelling on the negative.

David sighed. "Look, I know you don't think it went well, but you're a quick thinker, and I've seen your weapons scores, you're a strong shot. I could really use another person in the field for things like this, so consider yourself that person when we need it."

Ianto bit back an angry retort. If going out in the field meant getting beat up by insane Welsh cannibals, he wanted no part of it. Still, he didn't have a choice, not if he wanted a job, so he simply nodded. "Yes, sir. Was there anything else?"

Evans shook his head. Ianto turned to leave, but Evans called him back.

"Do you know Jack Harkness?"

Ianto hoped his face remained blank, though his heart was suddenly pounding. "He used to work for Torchwood Three, I believe?" he asked, and the other man nodded. "Not personally. Why?"

"Just curious," David replied. He was clearly watching Ianto closely for any signs of lying. "He's still here, in Cardiff."

Ianto made the quick decision to offer some truth as a way of covering his tracks should he need to in the future. "I've seen him," he admitted. "He's been to my local several times recently."

Evans seemed surprised by Ianto's confession. "And you recognized him?"

"I saw him in London, sir," Ianto offered, which was true. "He was an arrogant flirt there, and seemed much the same at the pub." Which was not true, and Ianto hated saying it, but he sensed he needed to tread carefully. Why was Evans asking him about Jack? Did he know Ianto had met him, was friends with him? Had kissed him?

Evans snorted through his nose. "That he is. They say he'll sleep with anyone and anything." He pierced Ianto with a sharp look. "He's dangerous though. Don't let the charming exterior fool you."

"Yes, sir," Ianto murmured.

"If you do talk to him at the pub, I'd be interested in knowing what he's up to."

Ianto nodded again, though he certainly had no intention of spying on Jack for his boss. There was no reason Ianto could think of for Evans to know anything about Jack. Jack wanted nothing to do with Torchwood, and Ianto was not going to betray him. In fact, it almost frightened him how much more loyalty he felt to Jack than to Torchwood at that moment, and he'd only known Jack for a few weeks, while he'd been with Torchwood for years. He left and went down to the archives to gather his composure.

Though he kept his duties exceptionally light, Ianto was exhausted by the end of the day. He went home and fell asleep without even eating dinner, missing Jack's text and sleeping straight through until morning. He got up, dragged himself to work, and did it all again: coffee, filing, a phone call with Whitehall, archiving some new material from his brief absence. He guided the team on a Weevil chase, ordered lunch, and started the new budget. As he worked, he lost himself in the details and remembered what he had said to Jack about being good at his job. He was, and while he knew it mattered, he wished the rest of the team appreciated it more. He still felt invisible, and did not want to have to be in the field to prove his worth.

Jack texted him about meeting at the pub that night; when Ianto declined, he called and offered to come over.

"I'm fine, Jack," Ianto told him. "I don't need a nursemaid."

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. "You're not avoiding me or anything, are you? After what happened?"

Ianto knew that was part of it, but shook his head, even though Jack couldn't see him. "No, I'm not. I'm just tired from going back to work, that's all."

Jack sighed, as if in disappointment. "All right, but call me if you need anything, okay? And maybe we can meet for a drink this weekend when you have some more time and energy?"

"Sounds good," Ianto replied. They hung up and Ianto went to bed early again. He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to seeing Jack later in the week or if he was dreading it. It seemed his life had taken an unexpected and confusing turn when it came to Jack Harkness.

* * *

The bleak mood that had started before the trip to the Beacons grew worse. He was still recovering from his injuries and sleeping poorly, and he still felt like the others didn't see him, or care. His boss asked about Jack again, and if Ianto had seen him at the pub recently. Ianto truthfully hadn't seen Jack for several days; he knew he was avoiding the other man, but he didn't know how pick up their friendship the longer he put it off. He wanted to, but at the same time, he was confused by his feelings for Jack and unsure how to move on from them.

Though he'd agreed to meet up, he didn't see Jack that weekend due to work. Tosh met an alien who conned her way into the Hub, and they were forced to shoot the Arcateenian masquerading as Tosh's girlfriend. After taking her statement, Ianto drove Tosh home and sat with her some more, then promised to come over the next day and help her sort some things around her flat. He begged off seeing Jack by telling him he was helping a friend, which was certainly true; Jack sounded disappointed, but understanding, and Ianto wasn't sure whether to feel guilty or relieved.

Tosh was understandably upset, but she would be all right; the affair had been intense yet short-lived, and she was more ashamed than heartbroken. The case hit close to home for Ianto, however, and he felt worse than ever even as he tried to help her through it. He took her to dinner that night, which was when she asked him how he was doing.

"I'm fine," he replied, caught off guard. "Why do you ask?"

She gazed around the small café near her flat as if unable to meet his eyes. "When I was wearing the pendant, I heard things," she said. He realized what she meant before she said it. "From you."

"Oh."

Had he been thinking about the cannibals? Or about his place on the team? About Lisa? Or about Jack? None of them were thoughts he wanted anyone to know. He tried to retreat, to sit back and make excuses, but she reached out for his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry you're still in pain," she said softly. "I wish there was something I could do."

"You are doing something," he replied truthfully, squeezing her hand back. "Right now, by asking. By being you."

"You're not so bad yourself," she laughed. She released her hand and the tension dissipated. "But are you all right, honestly?"

He shrugged this time. "Good days and bad days," he said. "I don't know what you heard, but it was probably a bad day."

She nodded in understanding. "Is it Lisa? Or was it the cannibals? I still have nightmares about them," she confessed.

"Both," he told her. "It's everything, this job, this life…" He trailed off with a sigh. "What can I say, Tosh? You know what it's like. It's Torchwood."

"Bloody Torchwood," she offered, and they laughed at the general sentiment of the populace regarding their not-so-secret organization. "Do you…do you have anyone to talk to?" she asked. "About things?"

He raised an eyebrow. "About Torchwood? Of course not." He did, he talked to Jack…only he hadn't talked to Jack much at all since the night they'd kissed. He missed that, more than he'd expected when he'd first met Jack Harkness. He knew he shouldn't tell Jack things about Torchwood, but Jack had worked for the organization, and Ianto felt he could trust the other man. The problem was that he felt other things as well.

"Do you go out much?" Tosh asked. "See your friends, family?"

"Is this dinner or an interrogation?" he asked lightly.

"Sorry," she said, and sat back with a sigh. "But for a few days, it was nice having someone to talk to, especially someone who knew about Torchwood—what we do, the things we've seen. I know it was all fake, that she was lying, but it was still nice…" She trailed off, retreating inward and focusing on her meal. Ianto decided to reach out and make a connection.

"I go to my local," he offered. "It is nice, having someone to talk to."

She glanced up at him, wide-eyed. "You don't talk about Torchwood, do you?"

He rolled his eyes and lied. "Of course not! At least, not directly. Just vague complaints about work, family, those kinds of things. Pain. Loss. Grief." He cleared his throat and shrugged, somewhat embarrassed at having said so much. This time it was Tosh's turn to sigh.

"We've not been very supportive, have we?" she asked. "Not if you're talking to people at the pub. I'm sorry, Ianto. You know you can always talk to me, right?"

"It's not like that at the Hub, though, is it?" he asked. She nodded.

"No, but let's make it better. We're talking right now, after all. You and me. Thank you for your help with all this."

"Anytime, Tosh," he said, and he meant it. He appreciated Tosh's sincere offer of friendship and support and found himself looking forward to reciprocating.

"So, who do you talk to at the pub?" she asked slyly. "Does she have a name?"

"He does," Ianto answered automatically, then rolled his eyes when Tosh's eyes went wide for a moment. "And he's just a friend, nothing more. Two blokes talking at the pub." And yet, it was more, wasn't it? He'd been there for Jack when Estelle had died, listening to his secrets. Jack had stayed with him after the horrific ordeal in the Beacons, even lying in bed with him. And then they had kissed. It was definitely more, but Ianto wasn't sure what it was, or what he wanted. Or maybe he did know what he wanted, and he was still trying to accept not being able to have it.

Tosh seemed to pick up on that immediately. "Right," she said, stretching it out. "Why do I not believe that?"

"I have no idea," he replied blandly.

"I think it's because of the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice," she said, nodding to herself. "You like him."

"He's been a good friend," Ianto told her, knowing it was true and hoping it wasn't over.

"And is he good looking?" she pressed. He rolled his eyes once more.

"As far as I can tell, yes," he said. "But it's not like that."

"Why not?" she asked, surprising him.

"Because I'm not looking for that kind of relationship," said Ianto, which was only partially true. "And he's not either. He's planning on leaving Cardiff soon."

"Oh." She finished her meal and took a sip of her drink. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Ianto told her. "It's not like that."

"You keep saying that like you want it to be true. Do you? Or would you?"

"Would I what?" asked Ianto. He motioned for the check, ready to escape so many questions he couldn't answer. He and Tosh may have cemented a stronger friendship, but Ianto wasn't sure he was ready to confess his deepest secrets quite yet.

"Would you be interested in him?" she asked. "If you were looking, if he was staying?"

Ianto was saved from answering by the server. He paid the tab and they stood to leave, but Tosh was watching him expectantly the entire time. He shook his head in exasperation and answered.

"Fine," he told her as they stepped outside into another cold night. "Yes, I think I would."

She linked arms with his elbow and smiled. "Good for you," she said. "I hope it works out, with him or someone else. You deserve it."

"So do you, Tosh," he said. "So do you."

He felt lighter than he had for a week and resolved to see Jack the next day, but the team pulled an all-nighter running down several Venusian Sporebeetles through Bute Park, and Evans made good on his request to see Ianto in the field, sending him and Tosh after the last two. They narrowed avoided being sprayed by acid before subduing them, and he tumbled into bed well after midnight, too exhausted to think about much more than making it through the next day without falling asleep, never mind what the surviving Sporebeetles might eat.

He was run off his feet again and didn't go to the Quiver and Quill the next night either. He was exhausted, but realized soon enough he was also putting it off again: he wanted to see the Jack, but couldn't seem to find the courage even though he missed their time together. Work was a convenient excuse, and Ianto welcomed a schedule that kept him busy all day and all night and sent him to bed so tired he was sleeping better than usual and didn't have to think about his personal life.

Unfortunately, before Ianto could work himself up to returning to the pub and his friendship with Jack, the other man took an unexpected trip to London. He texted Ianto to tell him that he was going away for a few days and hoped to see him when he got back that weekend. Ianto tried not to wonder what Jack was doing there, who he was seeing. It was none of Ianto's business, and it shouldn't bother him that Jack had left, that he might be with someone else, that he might not come back—

Ianto put it from his mind. He went to work during the day and stayed home on the nights he didn't work late. When Jack texted that he was heading back to Cardiff in the morning, Ianto couldn't help but feel relieved. When he got up and went to work the next day, he was determined to put the last two weeks of confusion behind him. He and Jack were friends, nothing else, and he intended to renew that friendship as soon as Jack returned. Even if he wanted more.

* * *

 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Torchwood quickly took Ianto's mind off how to renew his friendship with Jack. What started out as a routine though bloody crime rapidly turned into something even more bizarre and horrifying as they resurrected a former coworker, Suzie Costello, and uncovered her murderous plot to return to life. Ianto pulled out the stopwatch he'd once found in the archives and timed Gwen as she used the Resurrection Glove to bring Suzie back, blaming Torchwood yet again and determined to do right by the woman she had replaced three months earlier. While he, Owen, and Tosh were understandably upset by Suzie's undead state, Gwen seemed more fascinated than anything. Her compassion got the better of her when she took Suzie from the Hub to meet her father.

Only Suzie had truly outsmarted them all, and shut them into the Hub on lockdown. Even Tosh couldn't break the code. Ianto managed to rig up phone service through the water tower, finding a text message from Jack.

_Back in Cardiff - how about dinner tonight?_

Ianto almost laughed at the timing. He'd woken up determined to see Jack, and here was Jack contacting him in the middle of a crisis for dinner. He'd missed Jack; at times, he'd half feared that Jack had left for good, as he'd once said he would. They could still be friends, after all, and Ianto was curious about Jack's trip to London.

_Lockdown at work. Meet at QQ if able?_

He deleted the messages from Jack and handed the phone to David, who called their contact in the police for assistance. By the time they'd unlocked the Hub, Gwen was barely alive, and David and Owen dashed out to Hedley Point to save her. They had to shoot Suzie, though the connection didn't break until Ianto destroyed the glove and she finally died again.

Later that night, Ianto tucked her into the morgue for a second time. With a sigh—what kind of job required someone to put their coworker in a morgue drawer twice? —he fingered the stopwatch in his pocket, thinking about Suzie and her strange quest for immortality, wondering why she would want to live forever. And he thought about what she had said about Max, about needing someone to talk to. For Ianto, that was one thing he understood, and for him it was Jack. He turned to leave, only to find David Evans watching with a sad look in his eyes.

"Thank you for doing this," he said.

"Part of my job, sir," Ianto replied, somewhat surprised at the sentiment. The team rarely thanked him for anything most days. "What do you want me to put on the death certificate?"

"That's a good question."

"She had quite a few deaths in the end," Ianto pointed out. Only in Torchwood. He wondered how many times he might die before he was truly dead and gone.

"I don't know. Death by Torchwood, I suppose." Evans walked up to the drawer, his shoulders sagging. "Torchwood was what killed her in the end."

"I'll put a lock on the door, just in case she goes walking again," Ianto replied dryly. Couldn't be too safe, after all.

Evans turned around, eyes wide for a moment before he shook his head. "No, I don't think there's any chance of that. The resurrection days should be over. The glove is destroyed."

"But that's the thing about gloves, sir," Ianto said. "They come in pairs." He had been joking, only as soon as he said it he realized it was true and wondered if there was another glove out there. He half wondered if he wanted to find it. Suzie had been seduced by the prospect of never-ending life for herself, but what if the glove could save lost loved ones?

David Evans sighed. "Go home, Ianto. Go home and mourn her again. I'll lock up here."

Ianto nodded and left his boss to his thoughts, hurrying upstairs to shut down his station, grab his coat, and leave. He texted Jack and headed to the Quiver and Quill for a late dinner, where he quickly downed a strong scotch at the bar before ordering some food and a pint of Guinness. He couldn't deny that he was looking forward to finally seeing Jack again as he moved toward a table in the corner.

Jack arrived not long after, glancing around the pub and grinning when he saw Ianto in the back. He placed a quick order at the bar and hurried over, making such a beeline for him that Ianto thought Jack was going to grab him and kiss him. Ianto almost thought about doing it himself, it was so good to see Jack again; he'd even settle for a strong embrace. Instead Jack kept grinning as he sat down across from Ianto.

"Wow, it's been a long time!" he exclaimed. "How are you, Ianto?"

Ianto rolled his eyes, nevertheless pleased with Jack's enthusiasm and ignoring the voice in his head that wanted more. "It's only been a fortnight, you know. And I'm fine."

"You look better," Jack said, then backtracked when Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Compared to last time I saw you, when you were covered in bruises and blood. You're feeling better then?"

"Much better," Ianto replied. "Not even sore in the mornings anymore."

"Good," Jack replied. "And done avoiding me?" The question sounded both lighthearted and serious. Ianto immediately felt bad, but rather than make excuses, he could only admit the truth. He wanted to repair the rift between them and regain what they had lost.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I wasn't sure how to move on after what happened. I wanted to stay friends, to see you, but didn't know if it would be awkward."

Jack offered a crooked smile. "I figured you needed your space. I'm glad you came around, though. It's good to see you. So, tell me everything I missed—and how in the world did you get locked in the Hub?"

Quietly Ianto told him about some of the other cases they'd had, before filling him in on Suzie Costello, the Resurrection Glove, and his final conversation with David Evans. A part of him felt guilty for sharing what should have been confidential Torchwood information, especially knowing what had happened between Suzie and Max Tresillian, yet he trusted Jack completely. And like Tosh had said, it felt good to be able to talk to someone about the things they saw —especially to Jack. Jack knew what life was like with Torchwood.

"Only in Torchwood," he said when Ianto had finished the sordid tale, and Ianto nodded in agreement.

"That's exactly what I was thinking most of the time," he murmured.

Jack leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "So how are you feeling? About the case?"

"Fine," Ianto replied, puzzled by the question. "Any reason I shouldn't be?"

"The glove brought your coworker back."

"Yes, it did." He thought he knew what Jack was going to say and hoped he didn't.

"And?"

"And?"

"Maybe you could have used it on Lisa. Is that what you meant about there being a second glove?"

Ianto stared at him in surprise. "You think I've got a second glove?"

"No!" Jack exclaimed, holding up his hands. "No, I don't. But if you did?"

Jack asked exactly what Ianto had been expecting. "You mean, would I want to bring her back?" When Jack nodded, Ianto took a deep breath and continued. "Lisa's dead. And I miss her every day, but I wouldn't want her back like that. Not like how she was in the end. Not like Suzie."

Jack reached over for Ianto's hand; it was good to feel his touch again and Ianto almost didn't want to let go. "Good. Just making sure."

"Of what?" Ianto asked, confused by Jack's concern.

"Sometimes things like this can trigger people." Jack looked both uncomfortable and sympathetic. "I know it's hard, losing someone like that, and probably even harder watching someone else come back."

Ianto shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. It was horrifying to watch Suzie. Yes, I've seen death, but there's nothing I could have done for Lisa. And I'm okay with that, so let's change the subject, yeah?"

"Sorry," Jack murmured, pulling away. Ianto missed his touch and wasn't sure what to do with his hands. His glass was empty so he motioned for another, then brought his hands to his pockets, where found the stopwatch he'd used earlier that day. He took it out and began turning it over in his fingers, the repetitive motion soothing.

"It's fine," Ianto said. "Really. But it's your turn now. What took you to London so unexpectedly?"

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I had a call that the Doctor was in London, but it wasn't my Doctor," he said. "Different regeneration, much older than mine." He shrugged. "But I stayed a few days, as it seemed a good opportunity to get away. I met with some old friends on Trap Street. Thought it might be a good way to take my mind off things."

Ianto's eyebrows shot up as he imagined how Jack took his mind off things. Jack actually rolled his eyes. "Not like that." He grinned. "Shocking, I know, but it's not always about sex."

"Who said anything about sex?" Ianto murmured, though that had certainly been his first thought. It was both an enticing thought, and one that made him feel jealous, though he had no reason or right. Then again, maybe Jack drowned his sorrows in other ways.

"You didn't need to, it was written all over your face. And no, I didn't spend the time shagging my way around London. I had other things to think about."

"You just said you were trying to take your mind off them."

Jack nodded. "Only I couldn't. So I ended up thinking about it most of the time I was there."

Ianto wanted to ask what was bothering Jack, but he didn't want to pry, and a part of him didn't want to know, half hoping Jack had been thinking about him as much as he'd been thinking about Jack. "I'm sorry you didn't find the Doctor," he offered instead.

"I will someday," Jack replied. "But maybe I'm not supposed to yet." He was watching Ianto very closely, and Ianto tried not to feel uncomfortable under Jack's gaze.

"You've been waiting for a long time," Ianto pointed out. "I would think you were ready to go home."

"Home? Probably not," Jack replied, sitting back. "Back to my own time? Maybe. But this century isn't so bad, not anymore." He leaned forward, his face intense, and took a deep breath, as if to settle himself. "Like I said, I've been doing some thinking," he started. "About things. And I—"

A server appeared then with their food and drinks. Ianto set down the stopwatch and drank half the glass in one long sip. He thought he knew what Jack was going to say, or he hoped he did, and wasn't sure he was ready to hear it. Or maybe he was, but what would he say? The last two weeks had been hard without Jack. That meant something, didn't it? But did it mean enough? Did it mean anything to Jack?

Jack took a bite of his sandwich, a sip of his drink, and tried again…only to be interrupted by some of the regulars, glad to see Ianto out again, wondering where Jack had been as well. They were invited to play pool, which Ianto jumped at, hoping it would provide a good distraction from his hopes and fears about whatever Jack had been going to say. Jack looked disappointed and finished his meal quietly as they all talked, then played a terrible game when they went to the pool table, clearly distracted by whatever he'd wanted to talk about.

By then it was later than usual for Ianto, used to staying home and going to bed early ever since his experience in the Beacons. He gathered his coat and paid his tab, then walked out with Jack, who handed him the stopwatch he'd been toying with earlier.

"You left it on the table," he said, tucking his hands into his greatcoat. He usually looked so tall and confident in the grey wool; Ianto really liked the coat. Now Jack looked hunched and unsure, and it made Ianto both worried and nervous. "Nice watch."

"Thanks," said Ianto. "I found it in the archives not long after I started. I liked it, and since it's not alien, I figured I could use it." That he timed things like bringing dead people back to life was not necessarily what he had thought he'd be doing with the antique watch, but then again, that was Torchwood.

Jack nodded, staring straight ahead as they walked down the street toward Ianto's flat. "Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch."

Ianto almost stopped in his tracks as his first thought was something wildly inappropriate, and he wondered if Jack was thinking the same thing. He tried to follow Jack's lead. "I could think of a few," he replied with a sideways glance at Jack. Jack nodded somewhat seriously.

"There's quite a list," he offered. Ianto was confused: the flirtatious words didn't match Jack's more somber tone. Ianto decided to keep it light.

"I can't tell if you're serious about the functional uses of a stopwatch or using a pick-up line," he said. That earned a smile from Jack.

"Maybe I'm using the functional uses of a stopwatch as a pick-up line," he replied. Ianto continued walking as he considered his response.

"It's a bit convoluted," he replied. "Unclear." Jack pulled him to a stop, his hand resting lightly on Ianto's arm as he stepped closer, a sudden electric tension filling the air between them.

"Interested anyway?"

Ianto stared at Jack's lips and swallowed. Oh yes, he was interested, if Jack was offering what Ianto thought the other man was offering. He couldn't deny it any longer: he'd missed Jack more than he had ever thought he would over the last two weeks. And he had wanted to kiss Jack again since the moment he'd seen the other man again. As he gazed into Jack's eyes, he felt the flicker of attraction once more, the warm feeling in his stomach sending sparks through the rest of his body and urging him to say yes.

"As long as it's not in a clock shop. Some fetishes should be kept to yourself."

Jack's eyes widened for the briefest moment, like he was surprised at Ianto's answer. "Is that a yes?" he asked, sounding unsure.

"Yes," Ianto murmured, moving closer to make his answer clear. "Yes."

Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist, tentatively pulling them together. "Are you sure?" he asked, leaning closer. "Because all I could think about while I was in London was you, that kiss."

"Mmm," Ianto agreed, desperately wanting to kiss him again, but Jack kept talking.

"I missed you," Jack said. "I know you think I'm leaving soon, and I did too, yet I can't help but wonder if I met you for a reason. I don't want to go until I know more."

Ianto almost laughed, from nerves and joy and frustration. "I'm sure," he said. "At least, I am right now. I might regret it when you leave, but—"

"Then I'll stay," Jack interrupted, shocking Ianto with his sincerity. Ianto quickly shook his head.

"Not for me. Let's take it day by day, yeah?"

"Ianto, I—"

"I'm not ready for a serious relationship," Ianto told him, even as he tried to convince himself. "I can keep it casual if you can." He could try, at least.

Jack smiled a crooked smile. "I'm an expert at casual," he said. "So…"

"So?" Ianto asked, stepping away though his body wanted to stay close. "Are you coming up?" He clicked the stopwatch. "To explore that list?"

Jack grinned and stepped forward, taking Ianto's face in both hands and kissing him deeply. Ianto groaned into Jack's mouth as their tongues explored one another right there on the pavement in front of his flat. His arms came up almost on their own to pull Jack flush against him, where he felt Jack's excitement against his thigh and groaned again.

"My flat. Now," he gasped, and taking Jack by the hand, he led him upstairs, shaking hands fumbling with the key as Jack stood behind him pressing kisses to his neck. They practically fell into Ianto's flat, hands grasping at coats and throwing them on a nearby chair, fingers running up and down shoulders and arms and backs as they kissed. After a long snog against the door, Ianto took Jack to his bedroom, where he set aside his last doubts and reservations and let himself be carried away by the intense attraction between them.

And if there were moments he felt the stirrings of something more, he told himself it was simply the heat of the moment. It was casual, and it would stay casual because one day Jack would leave with the Doctor, and Ianto would be alone once more.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd put this up sooner after the lack of progress in the last chapter. I love these moments between them, and hope you liked it too! It was fun to try and flip the stopwatch line to Jack.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

When Ianto woke up the next morning, Jack was still asleep beside him, his body turned toward Ianto as they faced one another over the pillows, one arm resting over Ianto's hip. Ianto didn't move, barely breathed he was so shocked. Jack was still in his bed, sleeping next to him. They had spent the night together, in every sense of the word.

Forcing himself not to turn away and panic, Ianto concentrated on his breathing, trying to remain calm even though so many different things were racing through his mind he thought for sure Jack would wake up from the sound of Ianto's thoughts alone.

After a few moments, Jack began to stir, as if sensing that Ianto was awake and watching him. He opened his eyes, looked around in slight confusion, then met Ianto's gaze and smiled.

"Good morning," he said. And he did exactly what Ianto had wanted to do, he inched closer, his hand now a burning fire against Ianto's side, his legs tangling with Ianto's beneath the covers.

"Good morning," Ianto replied, unable to stop staring at Jack's lips. They had felt so good against his own from the first time that Jack had kissed him, and over all the other places Jack had kissed and licked him through the night. He felt himself growing hard thinking about it again, hoping it wasn't a one-time thing.

"Did you sleep all right?" Jack asked. It was an eerie throwback to the last time Jack had spent the night.

"Yes, I did, thank you," Ianto replied, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Did you? Sleep all right?"

Jack studied him and smiled, propping himself up on an elbow and taking his hand away from Ianto's side, leaving him feeling cold. "Better than usual," he replied. "Thanks for letting me stay."

Ianto wished his nerves would settle; he'd always hated the awkward morning after conversations, and for some reason this was starting out more awkward than usual. "Did you want to, er…" He cleared his throat. "Did you want some coffee, maybe? Breakfast—something to eat? If I have anything, that is…" He trailed off as Jack frowned.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "You're not…not regretting anything, are you? Last night?"

Ianto let his eyes slip closed and sighed. He didn't regret it, and he needed to stop acting like he did. "No," he said, opening his eyes and smiling. "I don't. It was amazing, but this is always the awkward part, isn't it—regrets or not. I'm not sure what to do next."

Jack seemed to study him before moving down on the bed and returning his hand to Ianto's hip, caressing it lightly. "I could think of a few things," he murmured, echoing Ianto's own words from the night before. Ianto grinned and moved forward, pressing himself against Jack, setting aside any lingering feelings of self-consciousness.

"There's quite a list," he replied, thinking that was probably going to be their line now. He captured Jack's lips in a fierce kiss that was returned with equal abandon, then rolled Jack onto his back and straddled him, dropping kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and along his collarbone. Jack gasped several times, his hands coming up to cup Ianto's buttocks and hold him firmly in place as they rubbed against one another.

If their initial couplings the night before had been wrapped in semi-darkness and the excitement of something new, now in the daylight it was revealed as something more: passionate and intense, with a growing familiarity and comfort after their first tentative explorations. Ianto took his time, bringing Jack to the brink with his hand, then trailing kisses down his entire body. Jack groaned, but Ianto moved slowly, letting his instincts guide him. He wasn't completely inexperienced with men, but this level of physical intimacy was new for him, and he was surprised at how easy and natural it felt with Jack when he simply didn't worry about it and let himself enjoy the experience. He hadn't been nervous the night before, and he wasn't nervous now.

They took turns teasing and exploring before coming to a mutual climax together, sweaty and tangled in the bedsheets. After taking a long shower together, still constantly touching, they tumbled back into bed, almost drifting off until Jack's eyes flew open.

"Hey, why aren't you at work?" he asked.

"Because it's Sunday morning," Ianto replied. "And while I often go in, I'm not required to, especially after yesterday. David gave us the day off as long as things are quiet."

"Right," Jack murmured. "So, you're free all day?"

Ianto shrugged. "I should check in, see if I'm needed, but yes. I'm free unless a spaceship falls out of the sky." He propped himself up on an elbow. "Why?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Jack replied with a crooked smile. "But hopefully the answer is better than last time…"

"Ah," Ianto replied, understanding immediately and ignoring the flip in his stomach. "Dinner and a movie?"

"I'd love to!" Jack exclaimed, and they both laughed. He pulled Ianto down for a long, slow kiss. "Or we could stay in bed all day."

They didn't spend all day in Ianto's bed; they fell asleep for several hours, threw together some lunch from whatever they could find in Ianto's kitchen, then went back to his bedroom for the afternoon. It turned out the thought of using a stopwatch was more than a pick-up line, it was an exceptionally brilliant idea, one that lent itself to hours of creative improvisation. Ianto would have fallen asleep again after that, but Jack persuaded him to go out to dinner, and not just to the pub. After another, quicker shower, they took Jack's SUV and headed for a small Italian place he said was perfect in Riverside. And it was. Ianto tried not to think of it as their first date, but it certainly felt like it—especially when Jack spent the night at his flat once more.

* * *

When Ianto went back to work on Monday, he felt distinctly different and was certain his teammates would notice. But Owen was his normal irascible self, Gwen was quiet after her abysmal failure with Suzie, and David simply nodded and thanked him for the coffee and budget. Tosh asked about his weekend and gave him a knowing smile when she asked if he had seen his friend at the pub. While he was fairly certain he kept a straight face, he was also reasonably sure she'd sussed it out by the little squeak she let slip.

He saw Jack again that night, and the next, before getting caught up in Weevil chasing, a long forty-eight hours tracking down multiple pieces of a crashed spaceship (he hadn't been joking, it was his third extraterrestrial vehicle retrieval with Torchwood), and a rather inane case involving a Dogon Sixth Eye and what Gwen insisted was a ghost only she could see. When he finally met up with Jack again on Saturday and told him about the last, they had a good laugh before Jack turned more serious.

"It's good you found it," he said. "I try to keep an eye out for that stuff myself. It can be dangerous, even something as seemingly innocuous like a Dogon Sixth Eye."

"What do you do when you find something?" Ianto asked curiously. They were at the Quiver and Quill at their usual table, catching up after several days apart.

"Well," said Jack, leaning back with a grin, "to start with, I have quite a collection. If it's something too big for me to keep or something useful for you, I'll slip a tip to Torchwood. A few things have been too dangerous, and I've gone ahead and destroyed them." He held up a hand before Ianto could protest. "I'm from another time, you know, and I can usually recognize the bad stuff," he said. "And If I know who's peddling it, I'll go after them. I've scared more than a handful of illegals off the planet."

"Illegals?" Ianto asked.

"Illegal aliens," Jack said. "Earth hasn't had formal alien contact yet, and it's a Level V protected planet. No one should be dropping by, especially if they're selling weapons."

Ianto shook his head. "You should come back. You know so much more than us."

"No thanks," Jack said cheerfully. "Been there, done that. You know about the Silos, right? Black market alien goods?"

"We send someone every month," Ianto replied. "Bit of a dodgy place."

"I think it's fun," Jack replied with a wink.

"Of course you do. That's probably why my boss told me to watch out for you." Ianto laughed without thinking. He stopped when he saw the surprised look on Jack's face. "I mean, er…"

"Evans knows about us?" Jack asked, sounding both curious and concerned.

"No," Ianto replied, shaking his head. "He doesn't. He asked me few weeks ago if I'd met you. I said I'd seen you at my local, and he wanted me to tell him if I ever saw you around again. He said you were dangerous—keeps checking up on me to make sure I'm avoiding you, I think."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Of course I'm dangerous. I wonder why he's curious now. It's not a big secret I stayed in Cardiff."

"Have you met?" Ianto asked curiously, and Jack shook his head.

"My break with One was pretty bad," Jack said quietly. He toyed with the table, obviously recalling uncomfortable memories. "Though the CCTV footage cleared me, One still locked me up before throwing me out on the streets. I remember him being there, in London, before he was sent to take over Cardiff."

Now it was Ianto's turn to glance away in discomfort. He hadn't been with Torchwood London at that point, but he still felt bad for what had happened to Jack at their hands. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know One…well, didn't always do the right thing."

Jack snorted bitterly. "That's one way to put it. I know you saw a different side of them, but all I ever saw was xenophobia, cruelty, and arrogant pride." He cocked his head curiously. "How did you end up in London, anyway?"

Ianto sensed Jack was asking both about his Welsh roots and his recruitment into Torchwood. He shrugged, as it really wasn't much of a story. "I left Cardiff after my dad died, ran off to London to get off the estate. Wandered around for months, practically broke, until I saw something I shouldn't have and ended up being hired instead of Retconned."

"What did you do there?" Jack asked.

"Worked my way around various departments—research, archives. I was Yvonne's PA for a while as well." Jack pretended to shudder, and Ianto rolled his eyes. "Yes, she was all that and more, but there was a part of her that cared. That tried. She was converted, you know," he said, his voice dropping. "At the battle. No one deserved that, not even her."

"No, she didn't," Jack murmured. He sighed. "Look, I have no problem with Evans, he seems like a decent guy, so I can't imagine why he's suddenly interested in you staying away from me. If it's a problem…"

"It's not," Ianto interrupted him sharply. "It's my personal life, not my professional life. Like you said, you're not with Torchwood anymore. And you're not dangerous, not to me as far as I'm concerned."

"No, I am definitely dangerous," Jack said. "But you're right, not for you."

"Bit late to worry about it anyway," Ianto shrugged, but with a smile.

"It's never too late," Jack said. "If you're worried."

"I'm not."

"Good," Jack said. He jerked his head toward the door. "Want to go back to mine tonight?"

Ianto glanced up in surprise. "Yours? Wait, what?"

"I do have a home, you know," Jack laughed. "I don't live in a hole in the ground."

"Right, of course," Ianto replied. "It's just that you never…I hadn't really…huh."

"Is that a yes?" Jack teased, and Ianto blew out a breath.

"I'm right around the corner, you know," Ianto pointed out. It wasn't that he was reluctant to stay over at Jack's place…only he was. It seemed so different than Jack staying his place.

"And I'm down by the water," Jack replied. "Come on, it'll be a nice change." When Ianto frowned, Jack rolled his eyes. "We can stop by your place and pick up a few things if that helps," he offered.

Ianto finally nodded. It was Sunday the next day, and there was almost no reason for him to say no: no work, no plans, nothing. Why not live a little? What was the big deal anyway?

They walked to Ianto's flat and he grabbed a bag, throwing in a change of clothes and some toiletries. "Grab a movie too," Jack said. "James Bond, maybe—as long as it's Connery or Moore. I saw you had them last time I was here."

Back in the SUV, Jack started toward the bay, and for a moment Ianto almost thought they were going to the Hub. Jack pulled into an underground car park right off the Plass and lead him to a building that overlooked the Millennium Center.

"You live here?" he asked, gazing up. "Right next to Torchwood?"

Jack shrugged as he let them in. "I have a few places, but I spend most of my time in Cardiff. I like to be close to the Rift, and there's something about the water…" He trailed off and motioned Ianto inside. "I have to warn you, you may be required to leave your clothes at the door," Jack murmured. Ianto rolled his eyes as he stepped inside. The flat was larger than his and much more open, with a clean, modern feel. Everything was top of the line, from the appliances to the fixtures to the furniture. It didn't have a very lived in feel, with only a few personal touches, and yet it still felt like Jack.

"This is amazing," Ianto said, feeling as if his small flat was an eyesore in comparison. "How did you…well, how did you afford something like this right on the Plass? Especially if you have other places."

Jack touched the side of his nose. "Wise investing over the course of many long years. Come on, I'll give you the tour." It was the second time that Jack had said something about his past that night, and Ianto filed it away. Though Jack had been honest with him from the beginning about many things, Ianto also knew there was still much about Jack that he didn't know, things that Jack either wasn't ready to share, or might never tell him. Despite what David Evans might think, Ianto knew he could trust Jack, but that didn't make him less curious.

The flat was three bedrooms with an open lounge and kitchen. The hardwoods were well kept, the kitchen well stocked, and the balcony looked directly out onto the Plass with a view of the water. One bedroom was given to a study of some sort, with a computer set up that rivaled the one at the Hub; the other appeared unused, with a single bed and little else. Jack's bedroom was unusually large, with an en suite and a queen-size bed done in deep burgundy and blue. It was the bedroom where they stopped their tour, and Ianto more than willingly left his clothes at the door.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I thought I'd put this up quicker than usual after the events of the last chapter. Any more comments about their hookup? I thought for sure there would be more now that they were together at last! It really makes our day when readers leave a little note, especially on chaptered stories. It's hard, sometimes, I know, and this chapter might not get many as the action doesn't move forward as much, but we really look forward to them as a way of knowing someone is still out there reading.
> 
> A few other things: I spent so much time online looking for places for Jack to live! Many thanks to summerstar for her help, it was fun. I actually found a flat overlooking the Plass and based his place on it. I had originally planned for them to go back to his house in Penarth, however. I found that place too: it was on the water, big and posh. It's where he keeps his collection of alien goods, but it ended up getting cut.
> 
> All right, time to tweak 'Out of Time'! If you know me from Tumblr, you know this chapter was a bear. In fact, everything up to this point was done ages and ages ago, and OoT was where it stalled. Thanks to anyone who gave me a poke and a kick on Tumblr, and thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Though they did not spend every night together, Ianto found that he and Jack spent more nights together than not. He preferred staying over at his own flat, even though it was not nearly as posh. It was, however, not so close to the Hub, which Ianto found disconcerting on the rare mornings where he stayed with Jack and found himself walking down the Plass to the tourist office. He could practically feel Jack smirking at him from his balcony, and dreaded running into one of his co-workers coming out of the building.

Still, it was always enjoyable, and they spent more time going to the Quiver and Quill and retiring to Ianto's bed than to Jack's. They went on their second date, dinner and a movie, as well as others when time permitted. Ianto learned more about Jack—about his likes and dislikes (both in bed and out), about his mysterious wrist strap and some of his adventures traveling in time (as an equally mysterious Time Agent), even why he liked being near the water (he grew up surrounded by sand.) Jack had a second home in Penarth, a gorgeous house that made Ianto start to wonder why a man as well off as Jack—he was smart, handsome, and apparently rich—was with such an ordinary bloke as him.

He also found out more about what Jack did during the times when he wasn't with Ianto. He'd left Torchwood for reasons Ianto knew were painful but still wasn't completely comfortable asking about, yet Jack continued to protect Cardiff in much the same way, mostly by keeping an eye on, managing, and even policing the local alien community. Ianto hadn't realized how many displaced aliens (and time travelers) were living in Cardiff, and on top of making sure the good citizens of Wales didn't get mauled by any Weevils Torchwood missed, Jack also made sure those affected by the Rift were taken care of as well.

The Rift offered Torchwood several weeks of peace and quiet, which Ianto took full advantage of, working steadily the archives while keeping the Hub clean and organized. Perhaps because it was quiet the team all talked more, and even went out to lunch a few times. Ianto's friendship with Tosh continued to grow, but he was surprised to find himself becoming closer to the others as well. He almost enjoyed trading barbs with Owen or gently teasing Gwen, and David Evans continued to bring him out in the field more.

They knew the Rift was gearing up for a big breach. Tosh was tracking it, and they expected something large. It was only a week out from Christmas when it happened, and to their dismay it was an airplane of passengers lost in 1953.

Ianto did not see Jack for several days, too busy working with the out of time travelers. He set them up in a safe house, took them shopping, and worked with Tosh to create new identities. Gwen took Emma Caldwell under her wing, while Owen became quickly enamored of the displaced pilot, Diane Holmes. John Ellis, the eldest of the trio, remained lost and upset. His family and his business were long gone, his son alone in a care facility. The world had moved on, adapting to modern times, and John was clearly handling it poorly.

After a third day of John's temper affecting them all, Ianto gingerly approached Jack, reluctant to involve him in a case again, but Jack had a personal understanding of living out of his time, as well as experience with helping others in Cardiff. He asked what he could do to make John more comfortable living fifty years in the future. After Jack offered some ideas, Ianto then asked if he might be willing to meet with the older man, to talk with him about adapting to life in another era. Jack was reluctant to involve himself in Torchwood business, but agreed to have dinner at Ianto's flat with John.

The night went as well as it could have, which was not particularly well. John was defensive and angry, and Jack was not the most empathetic of listeners. He had been living out of his own time for years—Ianto suspected decades, though Jack never said— and although he tried to offer patience and understanding, John was too angry and consumed by self-pity to listen. It was with a sigh of disappointment that Ianto took John back to the safe house, wishing there was something more he could do to help the man, and determined to talk to David Evans about it in the morning.

David called him into the office first, before Ianto had even started the coffee.

"Ianto," he said. "Sit down, please. I wanted to talk to you about our visitors."

Ianto nodded, assuming David had similar concerns to his own. "Yes, sir. I wanted to speak to you about John Ellis as well."

Evans raised an eyebrow. "Is anything wrong?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Ianto replied. "I'm worried about how he's adapting, though. He doesn't seem very open to the idea of starting a new life here."

Evans leaned back and placed his hands in his lap. "Is that why you had Jack Harkness talk to him?" he asked. The abrupt question surprised Ianto.

"Excuse me?" he asked, trying not to appear too surprised. "What about Jack Harkness?"

Evans studied his face and leaned forward, more aggressive than normal. "I warned you about him, remember? He's dangerous. And I asked you to tell me if you ever ran into him. You didn't."

"And how do you know this?" Ianto asked, slowly piecing it together. "Are you following him? Or me?"

"Standard monitoring procedure," Evans replied. "I had to be sure you weren't compromised."

"Compromised!" Ianto exclaimed. "Jack Harkness worked for Torchwood. He's not going to compromise me."

"He's former Torchwood, Ianto," David said. "He left the agency years ago and wants nothing to do with it, especially since One fell. Look," he sighed, tapping his fingers on this desk. "I know you've been seeing him. And as much as I wanted to stop it, I didn't, because it's your business who you sleep with. But when you brought him in on a Torchwood case, it became our business. And we can't have that. Harkness is not Torchwood anymore."

"Right, he's dangerous," Ianto replied sarcastically, though he sounded more petulant than anything.

"Yes!" David exclaimed. "He is. You know what happened eight years ago, right?"

Ianto stared at him before nodding. "I do. He didn't kill anyone."

"Probably not," Evans agreed, surprising him again. "But he's been a thorn in Torchwood's side for years. He's arrogant, uncooperative, and unpredictable."

Ianto considered arguing that Jack was anything but uncooperative, given his anonymous tips to Torchwood and the unofficial help he offered the local alien community, but held back. "So, Torchwood One ostracized him because he's got an ego?" Ianto asked. "Even though he's our best connection to some of the things we see and do around here?"

"We have other connections now," Evans said. "Break this one."

Ianto stood up. "I'm sorry, but you have no right to tell me who I can or can't see."

"If it has to do with Torchwood business, I can," Evans snapped.

"It's not Torchwood business," Ianto insisted.

"Then why did you introduce him to John Ellis?" Evans demanded.

Ianto sucked in a breath and tried not to start pacing. "I was trying to help! I'd hoped Jack might know something to say, something to do, to help him move on."

"And did he?"

"He tried," Ianto admitted. "But John was too angry to listen. I don't know what else to do for him."

"He's a grown man," Evans replied, though Ianto thought he detected a touch of frustration. "He'll have to accept things, learn to adapt. We'll do what we can to set him up, but we can't force him to be happy with it."

Deep down, Ianto knew that was true, but it was still hard to watch John Ellis struggling. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'll do my best."

"And do it on your own," Evans said. "I don't want Harkness working our cases, and I don't want to make you choose."

Ianto nodded. "You won't have to." Because he'd leave Torchwood if had to, in a heartbeat. He remembered all the things Jack had once said he might do instead, and knew he could do them now, if he had to. Or he'd help Jack. He didn't want to work for an organization that forced him to stop seeing someone he cared about. They had already taken Lisa; they wouldn't take Jack. Which made Ianto realize in that split second how much he'd come to care about Jack, but he set it aside for later and turned to leave.

"Just out of curiosity," he said at the doorway. "What do you have against Jack Harkness? He could be a real asset for Torchwood."

David Evans sighed. "I don't have anything against him," he said, surprising Ianto yet again with his answer. "I've never met him. And you may be right about him, but he's better off without Torchwood, trust me."

Ianto made a note to ask Jack why David Evans would think something like that; it seemed his problem wasn't with Jack as much as it was with Torchwood. He nodded, then turned to go to his station, hoping to put it from his mind until he could talk to Jack about it.

He spent the day alternating between frustration and annoyance—frustrated that he couldn't do anything to help John Ellis, and annoyed at David Evans for his enigmatic dismissal of Jack. When it was time to leave, he hurried upstairs and grabbed his coat, only to find his car keys were missing.

He searched everywhere for them, then remembered finding John Ellis behind the counter earlier, looking for a bus timetable. Had he taken them? Why? Pulling out his mobile, Ianto tried to call John on the phone they had given him, but there was no answer. He wracked his brain, trying to think of where John might have gone. Then he remembered that Evans had said something about standard monitoring and wondered if he could track his own car.

A quick look through the computer system found it, and sure enough, his car was not in the garage: John had gone back to his family home. The problem was that Ianto had no car to get there. The others had gone home for the night, and David Evans was representing Torchwood at a holiday reception in Penarth. So Ianto did the one thing he knew was wrong, but also most right: he called Jack.

"Jack," he said, before Jack could start going on like he usually did. "John Ellis stole my car and has gone back to his old house. I think something's wrong. Can you swing by and pick me up?"

"Where is he?" Jack asked. "If I'm closer to him, I might get to him first."

"Right," Ianto replied, and gave him an address in Grangetown. He heard the squeal of tires.

"I'm less than five minutes away," Jack said. "I'll talk to him, see why he's stealing cars at his age."

"Jack, he's probably not going to be in a joking mood," Ianto warned him. "He's been so angry and upset. I'm worried about what he might do to himself."

He could hear the serious turn in Jack's voice. "All right, I'll be careful. I'm almost there. I'll check back in a few minutes."

Ianto disconnected and began to pace the tourist office. He contemplated getting a taxi and meeting them there, but didn't want to miss them if Jack was on his way back to the Hub already. He wondered if he should let Evans know, but decided to wait and see what John had to say first.

Ten minutes went by, then fifteen. Ianto texted Jack; no response. He called, but Jack did not answer. He called again, swearing when it went to voice mail. He wondered if the Torchwood SUV was in or if Evans had taken it. Grabbing a set of keys, he threw on his coat and hurried to the garage, relieved to find it parked in its usual place; Evans had taken his own car, then. Ianto almost kicked himself, since he could have left ages ago. Pulling out of the garage in a panic, he drove as fast as he could, determined to make up for lost time.

He made it to John's house without getting pulled over. Jack's SUV was parked in front, but he did not see his own car anywhere. Then he noticed the garage was closed, and a terrible thought entered his head. He dialed Jack's phone again and heard it ring inside the garage.

Kicking in a side door, Ianto immediately began coughing as the smell of carbon monoxide almost overcame him. Covering his mouth and nose with his scarf, he opened the garage door to let in fresh air, then hurried over to the car. John and Jack were both sitting in the front seat, slumped over and unconscious—or worse.

After turning the car off, Ianto pulled them both outside. John Ellis had no pulse and was already growing cold. Jack too had no pulse, and Ianto collapsed next to him in a fit of coughing, his heart breaking as he realized both men were dead. It was not hard to figure out what had happened: John Ellis had stolen Ianto's car and gone home to die. And somehow, for some reason, Jack had sat next to him as the poisonous air took their lives.

Jack was dead.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist splitting the chapter because I can be mean like that. And I hate editing 5K chapters. So I'll put the next one up tomorrow.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Ianto felt a wave of dizziness and grief overcome him and let his head fall to his knees, alternating between coughs and sobs as he tried to process what had happened: John, dead. Jack, lost to him. He was alone again, and he had failed to save John Ellis as well. Throwing his head back, Ianto shouted his grief and anger to the night sky. It wasn't fair. They'd only net a few months ago, and it had been going so well. He cared about Jack, maybe even—

There was a sound next to him, a gasp as Jack's eyes flew open and he flailed upwards, coughing yet alive. It dimly occurred to Ianto that he should get an oxygen mask for them both, but he was too stunned; he stared at Jack, who stared back with a frightened look in his eyes.

"You were dead," Ianto whispered, resisting the urge to back away. "I pulled you out."

"I'm sorry," Jack said, breathing deep to calm his troubled lungs. "I must have passed out."

Ianto narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "You didn't have a pulse, Jack! You didn't pass out, you  _died_. Sitting in a car with the door shut and the engine running—you killed yourself on purpose, didn't you?" Jack did not answer, but looked away, toward where John was laying on the ground. John Ellis, however, did not gasp back to life.

"I couldn't stop him, so I stayed with him," Jack said softly. "I didn't want to let him die alone. I held his hand."

"You held his hand knowing you would die!" Ianto shouted at him. "I've been frantic, calling and texting, and the whole time you're sitting here asphyxiating yourself! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong," Jack assured him, reaching out. Ianto pulled away, and Jack's face fell. "I wasn't trying to kill myself, I promise. I knew I would die, but…" He took a deep breath and met Ianto's eyes. "I also knew I would come back."

"You knew you would come back?" Ianto repeated, his voice incredulous. "Because what? You're not affected by carbon monoxide poisoning in whatever century you're from? You were dead!"

"I was," Jack said, nodding calmly. He moved closer and this time Ianto did not pull away. "And now I'm not. Because I can't die."

"You can't die?" Ianto repeated.

"I haven't yet," Jack offered with a small smile. "At least, not permanently." Ianto shook his head.

"You're saying you're…what? Immortal? That's not possible!"

"You know I'm not from this century," Jack pointed out. "That I've traveled in time with the Doctor."

"That's different," Ianto said. "The Doctor is real. His ship is real. I saw it at Canary Wharf. Immortality…that's myth, legend. That's not possible."

"Then I'm impossible," Jack laughed bitterly. "Because I can't die. I stayed with John so he wouldn't be alone. Not because I wanted to die, but because I wanted to do that for him. Do you understand? I wasn't trying to end my life." He took Ianto's hand. "I happen to like it right now."

Ianto gazed down at their hands and slowly pulled his away. "You didn't tell me," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's a long story," Jack sighed. "And probably not best for the pavement."

"You let me think you were dead!" Ianto hissed.

"And I said I'm sorry!" Jack snapped. "But if you were me, you'd keep your secrets close too, so people wouldn't hold them against you, use them to hurt you. I did what I had to do."

"What you had to do?" Ianto repeated. "I would never hurt you!"

"Then you'd be the first," Jack said, his voice bitter with pain. "Look, we need to clean this up before we get into this. How do you want to handle it?"

Ianto looked from Jack to John to his car in the garage. He stood up on unsteady feet. "I'll take care of it. Evans can't know you were here."

"Why?" Jack said. "I was only trying to help."

"He told me off again this morning," Ianto told him wearily. "He's been monitoring me, knows we're sleeping together. And he was pissed off that I asked you to help John."

Jack's face hardened. "What we do is none of his business."

"I brought you in on a classified Torchwood case," Ianto said. "He has a point. I can't go telling all my friends and family about the displaced time travelers I'm trying to resettle at work."

Jack was eyeing him strangely. "There's more to it than that."

"Of course there is," Ianto replied. "Just like there's more to your story. But you're right, I need to take care of this. You should go home and clean up. Are you okay to drive?"

"I'll be fine," Jack said, frowning. "I recover fairly quickly from these sorts of things. But you shouldn't have to do this alone."

"It's my job," Ianto told him. "I clean up. I'll call Evans to let him know, but I won't tell him you were here."

Jack did not seem convinced, but nodded slowly. "All right. Can we talk later? About this?"

"Oh, we are definitely going to talk," Ianto said, not looking at Jack as he went into Torchwood mode and started making a mental list of all the things he needed to do. "I'll come by as soon as I'm done. You'll be home?"

"I'll be there," Jack said softly. There was something about his voice that made Ianto look up. Jack sounded upset, almost resigned. Ianto offered a small smile.

"Pizza might be nice," he said. "And beer."

"I'll get some pizza and beer then," Jack said. "Ianto…"

"I know," Ianto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, too."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Jack told him. He moved closer. "I'm the one who put you through this."

"I'm the one who called and asked you to help," Ianto replied. "So, lesson learned. Now, I'm going to call Evans, so you should go. I'll try not to be too long. I need to get John back to the Hub and make sure everything is taken care of here before I leave."

"And your car?" Jack asked. Ianto glanced back toward the garage.

"Junk. I'll call someone and start shopping for a new one."

"I can help," Jack offered. "With the shopping, that is."

"Go home first," Ianto told him. "Clean up and rest. I want to be sure you're okay."

"You're sure you'll be all right?"

"I have no choice," Ianto said. "But yes, I'll be okay. Knowing you're alive…yes. I'll be there soon."

Jack still looked concerned, then leaned forward and kissed him, quick and hard. "Thank you," he said softly. "Be careful."

He turned and went to his car, pulling out with a wave. As soon as he left, Ianto closed his eyes and tried to still his racing heart. Jack had died in that garage, but he wasn't dead. It was almost too much to process…and yet, Ianto worked for Torchwood. How many times had the impossible proved real? Jack was immortal. It explained so much about Jack's life, but Ianto knew he couldn't think about that now. He had to deal with John Ellis, whose life was sadly over.

* * *

Two hours later, Ianto left the Hub and walked to Jack's flat, not caring whether Evans saw him or not. He'd called Evans at his holiday gala and told him what had happened, and had got an earful over the phone with instructions to start cleaning up. Ianto assured his boss that he had it under control; Evans said he would meet Ianto back at the Hub.

After hanging up with Evans, Ianto called someone to take care of his car—someone he knew was discreet and wouldn't report him for a possible murder. He pulled the SUV close to the garage and placed John's body in the back, then unpacked all his belongings from the Audi he'd had since he'd started at Torchwood and put them in the SUV as well.

After his car was towed, he made sure the scene was clean and returned to the Hub. David Evans was waiting for him. He was sitting in front of Tosh's computer, clearly pissed off about what had happened. Behind him, Ianto saw several CCTV screens pulled up and wondered if Evans had found any footage from earlier that night.

"How the hell did this happen?" Evans demanded. "I thought you were trying to help him, not kill him!"

Ianto bristled. "I didn't kill him! I tried to save him." He drew himself up straighter, feeling defensive. "He must have stolen my keys earlier in the day. I didn't notice until I tried to leave. I tried to contact him several times, but he refused to answer."

"How did you find him then?"

"I tracked my car," Ianto replied blandly. "You said you were monitoring me, so it was easy enough to figure out. He'd gone back to his old home. I contemplated taking a taxi until I realized the SUV was still here. I got there as fast as I could, but he was already dead. He closed the garage, started the car, and gassed himself."

"With Jack Harkness sitting right next to him," Evans added. Ianto couldn't keep the look of surprise from his face, especially when Evans turned and waved his hand from Ianto to the CCTV screens. There were multiple images of Jack pulling up in his SUV, walking into the garage, of Ianto pulling him out, then driving away. "I told you this morning to leave Harkness out of this!"

"I called him for help," Ianto replied, embarrassed to find himself stammering over his words. He knew he had messed up, there was no talking around it. "There was no one here to get to John fast enough!"

Evans studied him closely. "How do you know Harkness didn't kill him?"

"He didn't," Ianto snapped, shocked at the very thought of it. "John Ellis killed himself. I told you this morning he was struggling! He didn't want to live."

"So he took your car to commit suicide. Are you all right? What about your car?"

Ianto was surprised by the other man's change in tone. "I'm fine. I called one of my contacts to pick it up for scrap."

"And what about Harkness?" Evans crossed his hands over his chest and inclined his head toward the CCTV. "You pulled him out of that garage looking pretty dead, yet he drove away ten minutes later."

Ianto stared at him, then the screens. He had no idea what Evans knew about Jack, or what he was thinking; Ianto wasn't sure he understood it completely himself. And he had no idea what it would mean for him—or Jack—if Evans knew the truth. "He was unconscious. He was fine when he left."

Evans nodded slowly and sat back in his chair, chewing his lip as if thinking about what to say. "I know he was dead, Ianto. I know he came back. Judging by the footage, you were more surprised than I was to see it."

Ianto was silent. He was completely at the mercy of David Evans and whatever he decided to do about Ianto's actions—and Jack's apparent resurrection. Ianto only hoped he could warn Jack before it was too late. Evans watched him for a long moment, sighed, then turned back to the screens…and began deleting all of the footage that showed Jack had ever been there.

"I told you he was dangerous," Evans said quietly, his back still to Ianto. "And more importantly, that he was better off without Torchwood."

"Why?" Ianto demanded. "Did you know? Is that why you told me to stay away?"

Evans nodded slowly as he closed the last window. "I knew. And now you do too. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

Ianto grew worried. "I don't understand."

Evans smiled sadly. "Then you weren't with Torchwood One long enough," he said. "They always knew what to do with someone like Jack Harkness." He stood and started to walk away. "Go home. I'll take John to the morgue."

"I can do it," Ianto protested. "It's my fault—"

"It's not your fault," Evans snapped. "It's mine. Because I'm the leader, the one in charge, the one who's supposed to stop these things from happening, only ever since One fell…since Gareth died…it's like Torchwood is falling apart." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "Or maybe it's just me. Go home, Ianto. There's nothing else to be done."

Ianto nodded, surprised at the depth of David's admission, the guilt and heartbreak in his voice. "What about Jack?"

"Jack who?" Evans asked bitterly. He moved toward the medical bay, where Ianto had placed John's body when he'd arrived back at the Hub. "We'll write it up tomorrow. Go home, you've done more than enough." Ianto opened his mouth to protest, but Evans held up his hand. "I mean that in a good way, Ianto. You saw that John was struggling and tried to help. You found him and cleaned up the scene. I'm not sure what else we could have done. Just make sure Harkness keeps quiet—and stays out of our business."

"Yes, sir," Ianto murmured. "Thank you. Good night."

He shut down his station, then hurried up to the Plass and toward Jack's building. He'd spent the last several hours deliberately not thinking about Jack and what had happened in the garage with John. Now he had no choice. And David Evan's strange reaction had him reeling even more; how had Evans known? Ianto needed answers, but was also terrified of what they might mean.

Standing at the door, Ianto tried to gather his thoughts before hitting the button for Jack's flat. Apparently he took too long, because the door clicked open and Jack's voice came through the intercom.

"Stop standing around thinking about it," he said. "And come upstairs so we can talk about it."

Ianto grumbled under his breath, but made his way upstairs. Jack opened the door to let him in, and before Ianto could even take off his coat, had pulled him close for a toe curling kiss.

"What was that for?" Ianto asked when they were finished.

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "Please don't leave."

"Leave?" asked Ianto in confusion. "I just got here, and—"

"Leave me," Jack interrupted. "At least not before I've had a chance to explain."

"Oh." Ianto felt a piece of his heart clench, that Jack was so worried about Ianto leaving him. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. He smelled pizza from the kitchen and imagined there was probably beer in the refrigerator, but he no longer wanted either. He wanted to understand. "I hadn't planned on it, so I hope you weren't expecting me to flounce out or anything."

Jack laughed, though it sounded brittle. "I can't imagine you ever flouncing," he said. "I pictured a lot more anger and fury, though."

Ianto sighed as Jack lead them to the living room. He sat down on the sofa and let his head fall back. "I was angry, at first. Now I need to understand what happened, what I saw. It was…" He closed his eyes. "It was awful," he whispered. "Thinking you were gone."

"You don't have to be scared," Jack said, sitting next to him. Ianto opened his eyes to find Jack gazing at him with a sad look on his face. "Because I can't die, not permanently. At least as far as I can tell. And I've been around for long enough to think it's going to stick. I've died so many times, and every time…I come back."

"Every time?" Ianto asked.

"Every time."

"But how?" Ianto asked. "Are you…"

"I'm human," Jack told him, as if reading his mind. "I'm from the 51st century, so I'm a bit mixed, but still human. I was traveling with the Doctor when something happened to me. I don't know what, but I died—and then I came back. Only he was gone, and I haven't seen him since, so I can't ask him what happened." He turned to Ianto and took his hands. "Do you see why I'm waiting for him, why I have to go when he comes? I have to find out why I'm like this, and I have to know if he can fix me."

"Fix you?" Ianto asked. "Why?"

"Because I can't die, Ianto," Jack said, sounding confused. "And immortality is nothing like it's made out in stories. It's living forever while everyone else around you dies. It's never forgetting someone when all the people you've ever loved leave you. It's a living hell I can't ever escape," he finished with a whisper.

Ianto was frozen in place, barely able comprehend the immense depth of Jack's pain and heartache. He reached out and pulled Jack to him, wrapping his arms around Jack and holding him tight.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea." And he hadn't. The thought of not getting killed next time he went up against a group of cannibals, or a Weevil in a dark alley, was somewhat appealing; the thought of living forever and watching everyone around him die sounded like a nightmare. He couldn't imagine how hard it had been for Jack, and idly wondered how long he had been suffering, though he did not ask. He had other questions and concerns. "Is that why you…" He swallowed. "Is that why you stayed with John tonight?"

Jack leaned back and looked Ianto in the eyes. "No, it's not. I sat with him because I understood his pain, not because I wanted to die. Not today. Not anytime soon." He offered Ianto a wan smile and reached out for his hand. "I'm sorry you had to find out like that, because I like what we have, and I don't want to lose it, not now."

Ianto lowered his gaze to where Jack was practically clinging to his hand. "So one day…you'll see me die of old age, or worse, and just keep going."

"Yes," Jack whispered.

"We'd better make the most of it, then," Ianto said. His voice almost cracked, but he smiled, albeit with a lump in his throat, and Jack smiled back.

"I suppose," he replied.

"I'd understand if you wanted to walk away," Ianto told him. "I know it must be hard."

Jack shook his head, smiling down at their interlocked hands. "Walking away wouldn't fix anything. Being here, I've seen things I never dreamt I'd see. Loved people I never would have known if I'd just stayed where I was." He met Ianto's eyes then, his gaze intense and full of emotion. "And I wouldn't change that for the world."

Ianto leaned forward, took Jack's face in his hands, and kissed him passionately, pouring all his fear and sadness, his relief and affection into the kiss. Jack pulled him close, and Ianto ran his hands over Jack's face, shoulders, arms, reassuring himself that Jack was really there, truly alive and well. But he wanted more, and standing up, he led Jack toward the bedroom, slowly undressing him, taking in every inch of his body, kissing every inch of skin.

After he came hard, Jack's name exploding from his lips, he fell across Jack's chest, his heart racing with more than the rush of orgasm. The thought of losing Jack pained him, and he knew in his heart that he cared for the other man more than he had ever dreamed he would. He'd told Jack he wanted to keep it casual, and had failed completely. As they held each other close through the night, Ianto realized that though Jack couldn't die, he would still leave one day with the Doctor. He could only hope that Jack would find his answers and return to him, but as Ianto drifted between visions of the past and dreams of the future, he wondered if it wasn't a fool's hope he was clinging to, and instead prayed he'd survive when Jack truly left him.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who helped me get past this chapter! It was very hard to work in Jack when he wasn't a part of Torchwood anymore. Combat was much easier and will be up sometime next week. Thank you for reading and commenting!


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Ianto slept poorly that night, still trying to process the fact that Jack couldn't die. He alternated between anger and despair, wonder and fear. It was unfathomable, particularly when Jack told him more: how he'd died the first time, how he'd then traveled to Earth hoping to find the Doctor, only to become stranded out of his time when his wrist strap burned out. When Ianto asked him when he had come to Earth, while they were sitting at breakfast the next morning, Jack shook his head.

"You don't want to know," he said, trying to sound light but failing.

"Yes, I do," Ianto replied. "Unless you don't want to tell me."

"I'm  _a lot_  older than you," Jack said.

"I've never had a problem with older women," Ianto replied, then grinned. "Or older men."

"1869," Jack finally answered.

And once more Ianto felt like he'd been kicked in the chest by reality: Jack was over one hundred and fifty years old. He'd lived through an entire century in Wales. He'd worked for Torchwood almost from its very founding, and had met Queen Victoria as well as Queen Elizabeth II. It was staggering.

"Did they know?" Ianto asked as they finished breakfast. "Torchwood?"

"At first, yes," Jack replied. "It's how I was recruited—I couldn't die, and boy, were they interested in that. Eventually that team died, and I started wiping any of my records I could find. Over the years there were others who found out. Most were willing to overlook it, as long as I did what Torchwood wanted, but some…some weren't."

"Is that why you left Torchwood for good?" Ianto asked. Jack nodded.

"Yes," he said. "After Alex died, Torchwood One realized exactly who—or what—I was. And being Torchwood One, they decided they wanted to know more. Figure me out." He made a face, his voice bitter. "It was only a month, but it wasn't a good one. Then they decided to let me go—no explanation, no apology, nothing. I'm still not sure why. Hartman was just taking over, but I think someone talked her into it."

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, and he meant it. How could he work for an organization that did such things? He told himself that Torchwood Three was different; they helped the citizens of Cardiff, stranded time travelers, and even aliens. He certainly couldn't blame Jack for leaving the organization when One had treated him as an experiment; Ianto half wondered why he himself had come back to Torchwood with Lisa.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Ianto went back to his flat for a quick change of clothes, then went in to the Hub to find that both Emma and Diane were gone as well. Emma had left that morning for London to start a new life, and Diane had taken the  _Sky Gypsy_  and flown back into the Rift. Ianto was surprised at how angry Owen was and wondered if he had fallen in love with the pilot. David informed the others of John's passing, and they had a silent toast at lunch. Then he sent them all home for the holiday and told them to check in on Boxing Day; if it was quiet, they could have another day off.

Ianto hurried home, wondering what to do with his time off. He wanted to call Jack and spend the holiday with him, but wasn't sure if Jack had plans, or if he'd want to spend Christmas with Ianto. His sister called to make sure he was still coming for Christmas dinner, which reminded him to pick up some wine. While he was shopping, Jack called and they made plans for later that night. Ianto picked up another bottle of wine and some food, and they spent Christmas Eve together eating, drinking, and in bed. It was one of the best holidays Ianto could remember.

Christmas dinner with his sister and her family went better than he expected, and it was good to see his mum. Between spending time with Jack and reconnecting with his family, he almost felt like he was settling into a normal life back in Cardiff after so many months of pain and heartache—or at least as normal as it could be, working for Torchwood and dating an immortal man from another century. It was a strange, but good, feeling.

Boxing Day proved to be quiet, and the team had another day off. Ianto spent most of it alone, glad to have some time to himself after several busy and emotional days. The next week was relatively quiet as well, though things started to pick up after that with an increase in Weevil sightings. Ianto also noticed an almost proportional increase in injuries at local the A&E and wondered if it was related. Evans told him to keep an eye on it, then asked him if Jack had noticed anything different. Ianto shook his head.

"I don't know. You said not to bring him in on Torchwood cases."

Evans frowned at the floor before glancing up. "Look, I know he's out there, doing his thing. I know he's the one who throws us a tip or some tech every so often. And I know he likes to chase Weevils. So let me know if he says anything, because it could help." He paused. "Okay?"

Ianto nodded, still wondering about Evans' curious attitude toward Jack. Initially, he'd warned Ianto away, told him that Jack was dangerous and that Jack should have nothing to do with Torchwood. And yet it seemed to be as much for Jack's safety as for Ianto's, and he wanted to know why David Evans was so concerned about Jack. When he'd asked Jack about it, the other man had no idea why the leader of Torchwood Three would want Jack to stay away from Torchwood for his own good.

Jack called him at work the next morning, the tone of his voice immediately indicating something serious. "I've got a body for you," he said without preamble. "Out on the docks. I was chasing a Weevil last night and someone in a white van pulled up and kidnapped it—"

"Wait," Ianto stopped him. "You saw someone kidnap a Weevil? Why in the world would someone kidnap a Weevil?"

"I don't know," Jack replied. "But I tracked the van to the docks and found a dead guy. You might want to take a look. Could be related to the uptick in recent sightings and injuries you mentioned last night."

"All right," Ianto replied. "Will you, er…" He wasn't sure how to ask if Jack wanted Ianto's help, like he did with the faeries, or if he was handing it off to Torchwood.

"I'll keep looking for that van," Jack replied, as if reading Ianto's mind. "I don't have the facilities for autopsies, and this guy's gonna want one for sure."

"Right," Ianto murmured. "Thanks, Jack."

"You're welcome," Jack said. "Just be careful."

Ianto stood and knocked on David's office door. "Come in," the other man called. He was reading one of the files on Weevils Ianto had pulled together.

"I may have something, sir," he said, standing before the desk. "A Weevil was reported kidnapped from a car park last night by a white van—" Evan's head snapped up, as surprised as Ianto "—and a dead body was found in an empty warehouse near the docks today, with a white van reported nearby."

"Dead Weevil?" Evans asked.

"Dead human," Ianto replied. "Could be connected, though." He didn't tell Evans how he knew they were connected and hoped his boss didn't ask.

"Who reported it?" Evans asked instead. Ianto hesitated between telling the truth and telling his boss he'd picked up a police report; Evans apparently figured it out. "Right. Tell Harkness thanks, if it pans out. I'll head out there now."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Ianto asked. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when Evans shook his head.

"I'll take Owen since we're dealing with a body," he said. Ianto glanced out into the Hub, not wanting to rat out a coworker, but he had to say something.

"He's not in at the moment," he said. "Better take Tosh. She can scan the area."

Evans nodded as he came around the desk, strapping on his shoulder holster. "He's not in yet? And it's half ten?" Ianto shrugged. "I'm not the only one who's noticed his behavior recently, am I?"

"He does seem somewhat off lately," Ianto offered. Which was an understatement: Owen had been irritable, even cruel, and frequently came in late, smelling of alcohol. Evans frowned.

"He's more than off, he's reckless and irresponsible. Any idea why?"

Ianto hesitated again. "It may have to do with the pilot, Diane Holmes, though he's not said as much. He seems angry about it, though."

"She left weeks ago," Evans pointed out.

"I'm only guessing," Ianto said.

Evans nodded. "Okay. Well, call him. And then call him again and get him in here. And in the meantime, see if you can track those kidnappers. Pull up the CCTV, track a car, use facial recognition, whatever you have to do."

Ianto followed Evans out of the office. "Why would someone kidnap a Weevil?" he asked, moving toward his station. Tosh and Gwen looked up in surprise. "It doesn't make sense."

"It can't be for anything good," Evans replied. "Which is why, as strange as it may seem, we need to figure this out and put a stop to it. Tosh, with me. Ianto, stay on comms and let us know if you find anything. Gwen, help him and get ready to ID the body we're bringing in."

"Yes, sir," Ianto replied, and got to work.

* * *

They returned an hour later. Gwen had managed to track down Owen, while Ianto had pulled up the CCTV footage of the van using Jack's information from the car park. After watching the footage several times, he and Gwen had thrown some ideas back and forth before hitting on a theory, which they shared when the team gathered after the autopsy.

"His name was Dan Hodges," Gwen started. "Born twenty first of January 1979. He was a salesman for web publishing software, married with a kid."

"Definitely death by Weevil, but he took a right kicking before his throat was punctured," said Owen. "Weevils go for the kill, straight for the jugular. Look at his face. Black eye, bruises to the cheekbones. Same across the back and the ribs."

"Could it have played with him?" asked Evans.

Owen shrugged. "Maybe, but I reckon these wounds were inflicted by humans. Why smack somebody about and then set the Weevil on them? Why not get the Weevil do all the work for you?"

"Maybe the Weevil wasn't cooperating?" suggested Tosh. "Do we think it's the same Weevil that was kidnapped by the white van?"

"According to CCTV, the van went from kidnapping the Weevil straight to the warehouse," said Ianto. "It seems likely it was the same Weevil, and they probably knew the warehouse was empty."

"So either they own it or they had contact with the estate agents managing it," Gwen said.

"But why take the Weevil straight to an empty warehouse?" asked David.

"To set it on Dan Hodges," Owen replied. "Police can't track murder by Weevil."

"Maybe," said Evans. "But again— why him? And how did they even know about Weevils?"

"Right now, the empty warehouse is our only lead," said Gwen. "We were thinking someone could go undercover, looking for property."

David looked skeptical. "It's flimsy, but it's something. Better than waiting around for another dead body. All right, who's the lucky spy?"

"You and Tosh were at the warehouse," Gwen pointed out. "If they're watching CCTV, they'll recognize you." They nodded in agreement, but before David could reply, Owen spoke up.

"I'll do it," he grumbled. David shook his head.

"No, you won't," Evans said. "You were late again, and you're off your game. Work up a cover for Ianto."

"What?" said Ianto.

"What?" Gwen echoed.

"Work it out for Jones," Evans repeated, turning toward Ianto. "You're going in. It's a simple fishing expedition. We need information, so you're going to get it for us."

"David, I was with the police, I can—" started Gwen. Owen snorted derisively as Evans interrupted her.

"Did you do a lot of undercover work walking the beat?" he asked pointedly.

"No," she said, glancing at Ianto. "But—"

"Neither has Ianto," Owen pointed out. "He's our body man, not James Bond. I said I'll do it."

"Ianto found it, Ianto goes in to look. Jones, my office." David turned and walked away without another word. Ianto exchanged a worried glance with Tosh before following. He could feel the others watching him as well and knew Owen would have something to say about it later.

"Shut the door," Evans told him.

"Sir," Ianto started. "Gwen and Owen are both better prepared to—"

"No, they're not," Evans said, sitting down. "You're selling yourself short. This is exactly what you should be doing with your skill set. You're quick on your feet and you have a hell of a poker face, so get your cover sorted with Tosh and figure out what's going on with these warehouses and Weevils."

Ianto nodded, not sure whether it was a compliment or not, but sensing there would be no argument that would persuade the other man. "Yes, sir," he said quietly and turned to leave.

"And Ianto?" Evans said before he opened the door. "Since it was Harkness who started this, let him know what's going on so he doesn't muck it up."

"Right." Ianto had every intention of telling Jack what he was doing, whether Evans approved or not. It was with mixed feelings of relief that Ianto accepted his boss's approval and went to prepare for his first undercover operation at Torchwood Three.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters will borrow a lot of dialogue from Combat and Captain Jack Harkness; no copyright infringement is intended. I hope you enjoy this version of those episodes!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

After settling his cover story, as well as his nerves, Ianto set up an appointment and met with Mark Lynch, the estate agent listed with the warehouse on the docks. Posing as a businessman returning home to Cardiff to expand his jellied eels business, Ianto told Lynch how he needed a large empty warehouse, preferably on the docks, to accommodate his development plans. Lynch seemed reluctant to show him what he was looking for when Ianto knew there was space available. He tried to make a connection with the other man, hoping to find out more, but he had a bad feeling about the estate agent. As someone who kept secrets, Ianto sensed Mark Lynch was hiding something.

"Something's definitely going on," David told him when he checked in with the Hub. "Gwen and I went to the hospital to question a man who had clearly been attacked by something not human, most likely a Weevil. Only he refused to talk, said they would kill him."

"They who?" Ianto asked.

"Don't know," Evans replied. "But it sounds like Lynch might have something to do with it. Keep working on him."

Fortunately, Mark Lynch called to meet for drinks later, telling Ianto he might have found a property to fit his needs. Ianto changed into a more casual suit with an open collar and met the other man at the Cube, a upscale bar that was far too modern, crowded, and noisy for Ianto's tastes. He was already on edge pretending to be something he wasn't, and the people and the noise only made it worse; when some drunk spilled his martini on Ianto's shoes, he couldn't help but snap at the man. For some reason, Mark seemed intrigued by Ianto's temper and invited him back to his flat for another drink while they went over the property he'd found.

Ianto stared at him for a moment, his phone startling him out of blowing his cover. It was a text from Jack.

_I've got your back. Behave with the pretty man._

Ianto covered his further surprise with a laugh as he deleted the message. "Sorry, yes, that sounds great. Thanks."

"What's so funny?" Mark asked, standing up to leave.

"It's my sister," Ianto lied easily. "She's always bothering me about working too hard, so I told her I was going out tonight. She said to behave but have fun." It was definitely something Rhiannon would say, that much was true.

"Do you?" Mark asked. "Work too hard?"

"Don't we all?" Ianto replied in his driest voice. He tried to look around the pub for Jack, who was clearly there somewhere, even close enough to listen, but he didn't notice anyone in a wool greatcoat.

"So how do you relax?" Mark asked. Ianto shrugged and tried to stay in character; in truth, answering the question wasn't hard, because he didn't relax much, unless being with Jack counted.

"I work harder," he said. They left the pub and started down the street. Mark Lynch's flat was only a few blocks away, slick and modern, with a large punching bag in the corner that the man immediately laid into. Ianto remarked on the place, offering his compliments, but Mark seemed unimpressed with his surroundings.

"Success has no worth other than itself. Seriously, I could live without all this. It doesn't define me."

"Still nice to come home to," Ianto replied. Mark was acting seriously odd, and Ianto wondered where this was leading. He didn't think it was heading toward the bedroom, even with the other man walking around with his shirt open, but Lynch was eyeing him strange enough that Ianto was growing uncomfortable.

"Yeah, but what's the point of life?" Mark handed him a beer, which Ianto pretended to sip before setting it down; he wasn't such a novice as to drink something that could very well be laced. "There's so much more, if you know where to look."

"I'm looking for a warehouse," Ianto replied. "Not the meaning of life. Or maybe the loo. Down that way?"

Mark grinned wolfishly and nodded. Ianto left him in the kitchen with his dark thoughts and wandered down the hallway. He opened a few doors, listening for the other man, until he came to one that was padlocked. Why would a man need to padlock a door in his own home?

"You found the bathroom yet?" Mark called.

"Yes, thanks," Ianto replied. He quickly picked the lock and opened the door, taking out his gun on instinct. There was a strange noise, vaguely familiar, and he turned on the light to find a Weevil in chains, growling at him as it pulled at them to escape. Ianto stepped back in surprise, right into Mark Lynch.

"Told you there was more," Lynch murmured into his ear.

"Sorry," Ianto replied, moving away and trying not to stammer as he put his gun back in his hip holster. "I thought I heard something. What is it?"

"No idea," Lynch replied. "Don't get too close, though. Vicious bastard."

"Where did it come from?" Ianto asked. He was frantically trying to work out multiple things at once: how had Lynch found a Weevil, why was he keeping it chained up in his closet, and how was Ianto going to let the others, or Jack, know what was going on without breaking cover?

"I found it on the streets. It took five of us to bring it in. Other than that, haven't got a clue. Scientific experiment gone wrong? Nuclear victim? One of the lads even reckons it's an alien. You want to know what I think?"

"What?" Ianto asked, even though he had no interest whatsoever in Mark Lynch's thoughts about Weevils, not if he was keeping one chained up in his closet. The man had a mad look in his eyes as he gazed at the Weevil; Ianto knew he had to be careful.

"I think it's us. You and me in a thousand years' time. This is what we become when all we have left is our rage."

Ianto stared at the creature, feeling an unexpected stab of sympathy for it. Torchwood had wondered for years what Weevils were, where they came from; Owen had been studying them almost since he had come to Torchwood Three. What if Lynch was right? What if Weevils were future humans, devolved back to their most basic animal state?

He shook his head. No, Jack was from the future. Humanity wasn't perfect, but he refused to believe they turned into mindless monsters.

"Give it a smack," Lynch said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Punch it."

"Why?" asked Ianto. Now he knew why Lynch had it chained up in a closet.

"That's what it's there for. Or do you want me to do it for you?"

"Not particularly." Lynch punched the Weevil anyway, hard in the stomach, then again. He laughed as he tortured the creature.

"Stop it," Ianto snapped, reaching out for the man's arm. "It can't even fight back."

"We all need a punching bag," Lynch replied, then pierced him with a look. "So, who are you really, Ianto Jones?"

"Excuse me?" Ianto stepped back, suddenly leery.

"I know you're connected to those two in the black SUV, checking out the warehouse you suddenly seem so interested in."

"I need a warehouse for my—"

"Jellied eels?" Lynch rolled his eyes. "Nice website, by the way. Kudos to whoever did that, though I'm not sure that was your greatest idea."

Ianto let the façade fall with a shrug. "It wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, it was. And whoever you are, you've royally fucked up my plans."

"What about Dan Hodges?" Ianto demanded. "What about his plans? He had a wife and a child!"

"I'm not responsible for other people's life choices. Now, why did you lot take his body? And why didn't you go to the cops?"

"Because they don't need to know," Ianto replied, inclining his head toward the Weevil. "About them."

"Why not? Do you know what it is? Who are you, Ianto Jones?" Lynch murmured, eyeing Ianto's gun.

"Why did you kill Dan Hodges?" Ianto asked, ignoring the question. When Lynch denied it, he shook his head, growing angry. "Then you let that thing kill him. Why? What did he do to you?"

"You haven't got a clue, have you?" Lynch replied, his lips curled in an ugly sneer. "We didn't kill Dan. He was one of us."

"One of who?" Ianto demanded. "Tell me what happened."

"I can do better than that," Lynch said. "I'll show you. Come on. I think you need an outlet, Ianto Jones."

He started toward the door, and Ianto followed. He hoped Jack was still watching, somewhere, somehow. He had a feeling he might need the backup soon.

* * *

They sat in the car and watched a white van in front of an empty building. A man walked by, then another, then more. "What's going on?" Ianto finally demanded, tired of waiting and growing nervous with anticipation. He wondered if Jack was still following him, hoped he was.

"You'll find out," Lynch replied with an oily smile.

Ianto had a sinking feeling. The white van had been used to kidnap Weevils. Which meant there were probably Weevils in the empty building. Mark Lynch used one as a punching bag; was that what the other men were getting ready to do? Torture and abuse Weevils? It made Ianto's stomach turn. He wondered again how he could get in touch with the others without arousing suspicion, and get out of whatever was going on in the warehouse. Then again, Evans had trusted him with the case, and perhaps he could see it through, if Jack was nearby.

Lynch stepped out of the car, and Ianto followed, surreptitiously looking around for any sign of Jack or the team. They entered the building, only to find it wasn't empty. There were men everywhere shouting and yelling and fighting one another in every room.

"What is this?" Ianto asked, not bothering to hide his disgust. "Some kind of fight club?"

"It's more than that," Lynch replied. He looked alive, almost manic, in his element. "We are the dispossessed, Ianto. A generation of no faith. In society, in religion, in life. All we can do is reduce ourselves to the basics. And this is only the warm-up. Follow me."

Ianto desperately wanted to leave, to call the team and get them in there to stop the madness he was witnessing, but he knew he had to get more information first; only then they could move in and shut it down. Or maybe Jack still had his back and had contacted the team, was there somewhere waiting to step in when needed. Ianto swallowed, nodded, and followed Mark Lynch. They stood on a balcony, surrounded by a wild, chanting crowd. Below them was a large cage, where a Weevil chased a man as the masses cheering them on.

"What's going on? What's that man doing in there?" Ianto demanded.

Lynch grinned. "Costs a grand to enter the cage. Whoever stays in the longest takes home all the money. You're next."

Ianto tried not to let Lynch see his shock—or fear. "So these guys are paying to put their lives at risk?"

"Yeah. The ultimate extreme sport. Too much disposable income, not enough meaning. That's us."

"Then what happened to Dan Hodges?" Ianto asked. He didn't want to know, but he needed a confession of some sort.

"He wouldn't come out," Lynch replied softly. "Just stood in the middle of the cage and let it maul him. I think he got in there and he realized that he didn't want to live enough. He surrendered. None of us could get to him in time."

Ianto turned back toward the cage and frowned. "You watched him die, and yet you all come back. Night after night."

"Well, what else is there?" Lynch spoke with such flatness it was disturbing.

"I'm not doing this," Ianto snapped. "I came here looking for what happened to Dan Hodges, not an existential crisis." He turned around and started to leave, but Lynch grabbed his arm. Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto finally noticed Jack. He wasn't wearing his greatcoat, but blending into the crowd in jeans and a leather jacket. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before Lynch pushed Ianto into an empty room. It gave Ianto the confidence he needed to stay calm.

"How long are we going to keep playing this game, Ianto?" Lynch said, his voice low and almost seductive. "You may not be looking for an existential crisis, but here it is. You  _are_  one of us. I can sense it—so much anger, frustration, rage. All repressed. Get in the cage." He pulled out a gun.

"Forget it," Ianto snarled, pulling his arm away from Lynch's iron grip.

"You need this, Ianto. We all do. Or do you want me to shoot you?"

Ianto knew he couldn't get to his own weapong fast enough. Thinking quick and hoping Jack was still close, he shook his head. "Lower the gun. I'll take my chances in the cage." Lynch lowered the gun. "Thank you."

Lynch grinned and motioned him back toward the main room, reaching around his waist to take Ianto's gun; so much for shooting the Weevil. As they made their way to the cage, Ianto scanned the crowd for Jack once more, working on a plan of action. He'd be dead if he stepped into that cage, so he had to fight back before he went in. Lynch pushed him forward until they stood in front of the door, then leaned in close. "When you get in there, when you're up close with it, take a look into its eyes," he whispered. "It's like looking into the darkest recesses of your own soul."

Ianto stepped up to the threshold, with Lynch right behind him, pressed against his back. Before they opened the door, Ianto turned around and met the man's eyes, almost crazed with passion and madness.

"I've already looked into the darkest recesses of my soul," Ianto said, then head butted the man as hard as he could. It had worked in the Beacons, and it worked again. Lynch stepped backwards, instinctively raising his gun, but Ianto slapped his hand aside hard at the wrist, and Lynch dropped the weapon. A solid right hook to the jaw sent Lynch reeling, but before Ianto could land another, he felt his arms pulled tight behind him. Two large men held him fast, and a third punched him in the gut, doubling him over with a gasp.

"Throw him in the cage," Lynch snarled from the floor. Before they could open the door, however, there was the sound of a gunshot and shouting. Ianto glanced up to see Jack striding toward him, weapon raised toward the ceiling, and then the doors burst open and David, Tosh, Gwen, and Owen came running in, guns out as they stopped anyone from fleeing.

"It's over now," David Evans bellowed to the stunned crowd. "No more fighting. Go home and forget this ever happened."

The men holding Ianto let go as Jack came striding up, his gun leveled at their foreheads and a look of fury on his face. Ianto shook his arms, turned, and hit the nearest one in the jaw before turning on the second. Jack, however, grabbed his wrist and stopped him, letting the man flee.

"Let them go," he said quietly. "It's over." Ianto was breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through his body.

"Right," he said, nodding. "Over." He let out a nervous laugh. "Good timing, because they were about to—"

"Ianto!" Tosh called out, and Ianto turned to find that Mark Lynch had gone into the cage with the Weevil and pulled the door shut behind him.

"What are you doing?" Ianto shouted at him through the bars. "Get out!"

Lynch looked over his shoulder, his nose bleeding from where Ianto had punched him. "Like he said, it's over. See you on the other side."

He yelled at the Weevil, rushing toward it. Before anyone could stop him or the creature, they were locked together, shouting and growling. There was a spurt of blood and an agonized scream, and then Mark Lynch fell to the ground, his neck broken and his guts pouring out. Ianto turned away and tried not to be sick.

"Let's get out of here for a minute," Jack said, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him away. The crowd was dispersing as David and Gwen forced them out. Tosh was using her scanner, though Ianto wasn't sure what she was looking for. Owen stood at the cage, watching the Weevil stand over Mark Lynch.

"That could've been me," he said as Ianto walked by. Ianto laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No, he wanted to die," Ianto said. "He lost hope."

"Hope for what?" Owen asked bitterly.

"Hope for the future," Ianto replied, and continued walking away with Jack. They stepped outside into the cold night, and Ianto immediately felt both better and worse, clear-headed but drained. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Thanks for following me," he said, feeling Jack beside him. "You probably saved my life."

"Yeah, well," said Jack. "I couldn't let you go home with a good-looking guy who wasn't me, could I?"

Ianto opened his eyes and glanced sideways at Jack. "Seriously?  _That's_ what you were worried about?"

Jack grinned and kissed him quick. "Not really. I was more worried about something like this."

Ianto sighed. "I can't believe they paid to fight Weevils. To see who could last the longest."

"Sometimes men will go to any length to purge the darkness," Jack murmured. "Like you said, he lost hope. For a minute there, I thought you were going to do it."

"Fight a Weevil?" Ianto asked incredulously. "Of course I wasn't. I—"

They were interrupted by his boss, walking toward them with Gwen. He stopped in front of Jack and held out his hand. "David Evans, Torchwood Three. And this is Gwen Cooper."

Jack took the man's hand and shook it, though Ianto could tell Jack was wary. "Jack Harkness."

Evans nodded. "I know. Thanks for your help. For the tip, for the backup, for everything."

"You're welcome," said Jack. "Just doing my part to help."

"Right." David glanced between Jack and Ianto. "Well, I appreciate it." He offered a crooked smile. "And I imagine the local Weevil population would as well, if they could talk. Though these guys are going to be pissed off for a while."

"They should join the local gym and work it out," Jack said. "Not torture innocent creatures."

Ianto stood up straight and snapped his fingers. "Which reminds me—Mark Lynch has one chained up in his flat. A Weevil. He called it his punching bag." He made a face, remembering the poor creature chained up in Lynch's closet. Evans swore under his breath.

"Gwen, can you and Owen take care of it?" he asked. Gwen was watching Jack and Ianto closely and seemed to barely hear Evans until he repeated her name.

"Oh, yes, of course," she said.

"Get Owen to treat any wounds first," Evans told her. "Then sedate it and release it. " Gwen nodded and left, and Evans turned back toward Ianto. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Ianto replied. Evans eyed him closely, then reached out toward his forehead.

"Did you head butt someone again?" he asked, his voice both amused and concerned. Jack held back a laugh as Ianto nodded sheepishly. "All right, have Owen look at you before he leaves. Then we need to clean this place out and figure out what to do with Lynch." He turned to head back inside. "Thanks again for your help, Harkness."

Jack tipped his head as Evans left. He turned to Ianto with a raised eyebrow. "That was unexpected."

"It certainly was," Ianto agreed, watching his boss walk away. "But you did help us, so he can't very well knock you down for intruding on a Torchwood case, especially one you found in the first place. Thanks again for saving my life."

"You were doing pretty good on your own, you know," Jack pointed out. Ianto motioned him toward the door. He needed to find Owen—his head hurt, and both his shoulders and gut were sore as well, though nothing some paracetamol wouldn't solve. Then they needed to begin yet another cleanup and cover story.

"I was about to get mauled to death by a Weevil," Ianto replied dryly. He blew out another nervous laugh. "Although maybe it'll get me out of undercover work in the future."

Jack stopped him. "You did great—with Lynch at the bar, out here with these goons. You are so much stronger than you think you are."

"I'm just lucky," Ianto protested. "And someday I won't be, and my number will be up, and—"

"Stop it!" Jack hissed, his face both angry and scared. "Don't talk like that. If you go out expecting to die, then you will. And I don't want that!"

"Jack, I—"

Jack put a finger to his lips. "Please," he whispered. "For me."

Ianto nodded, a lump in his throat. Jack kissed him again, short and quick, before they went inside to begin the cleanup. Yet all Ianto could think about was going back to his flat and reassuring Jack that he was still there, still alive—and that he wanted to be there with Jack as well, more than anything and for as long as he had.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! The plot remained much the same, and a lot of the dialogue was taken from the episode as well, though there are some differences as Ianto and Owen probably wouldn't talk and react exactly the same way. You know what's next! Thank you for reading and enjoy!


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

The team looked at him differently after his undercover gig. Tosh couldn't stop hugging him and expressing her pride. "I knew you could do it," she told him the next day, as if hearing it enough would force him to believe it. He shrugged it off, and she smirked. "Of course, if I had a gorgeous boyfriend backing me up, I could probably take on a Weevil fight club by myself too."

"Tosh!" Ianto exclaimed, whirling around from where he was trying to make coffee. "I wasn't by myself, you were all there, and he's not my boyfriend." As soon as he said it, he wondered why if it was true and why he'd said it. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed to be with Jack, and now that the team had seen them working together, there was certainly less to hide; David Evans knew, after all. Yet he wasn't sure if Jack saw their relationship that way. Yes, they were sleeping together, and yes, he could even say they were dating. But did an immortal man from the future even use words like boyfriend?

"But he is gorgeous," Tosh pointed out, breaking his thoughts. "Like a film star."

"I suppose," Ianto murmured. She smacked him lightly on the arm.

"He was all over you," she said. "And Gwen saw him kiss you. So the cat's out of the bag, Ianto Jones. You're dating him, aren't you?"

Ianto handed her a mug of coffee and motioned toward the sofa. They sat down and faced each other, and after making her wait while he carefully sipped his hot drink, he finally set his mug down and nodded.

"Yes."

She grinned, and Ianto thought he'd be swept up in another embrace. "I knew it!" she exclaimed, which was when Gwen came out of David's office.

"Knew what?" she asked curiously, joining them on a chair nearby. Tosh looked to Ianto. His first instinct was to say nothing, but after working with her for several months, he knew Gwen wouldn't let it go, not if she thought he was hiding something. He waved his approval and picked up his mug to shield his face.

"Ianto is dating Jack Harkness, the man at the fight club last night," Tosh told Gwen. To Ianto's surprise, Gwen frowned, opened her mouth, closed it, and tried again.

"Ianto, do you…do you know anything about this man?" she asked, leaning forward, her face taut with concern. Ianto swallowed a frustrated sigh, sensing he was about to become one of her charity cases.

"Yes, Gwen, I've known him for several months now."

"David said he used to work for Torchwood Three," Gwen said. "Only he left eight years ago. I didn't think you could do that, leave Torchwood."

"There were extenuating circumstances," Ianto told her, hoping she'd drop it but knowing she wouldn't.

She glanced down, as if reluctant to speak. "Ianto, David said everyone on that team died except for Harkness. Don't you find that strange?"

"No," Ianto replied. "I don't. I find it tragic. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh, of course not," she said, her voice dripping with false compassion. "I didn't think he did, but…it's strange, you know? That he was the only one who survived, that he left Torchwood but stayed in Cardiff, that he was there last night."

"I can't imagine why he'd stay with Torchwood after what happened," Ianto said, hoping she wouldn't point out that he'd done exactly the same thing after Canary Wharf. Then again, Gwen seemed to understand very little about the disaster that was Torchwood One's downfall.

"Apparently, he was with Torchwood for years," she said. "Only I can't find anything on him in the records, only that one file."

Ianto sipped at his coffee, his blood boiling. Why was she looking up Jack? What business of hers was it who he dated? He kept his calm, however, determined not to give Gwen the satisfaction of seeing him upset. "Gwen, what's your point?"

"I want to be sure you're safe, sweetheart," she said, and Ianto exchanged a look with Tosh. It was more likely Gwen was sticking her nose in places it didn't belong, because she always had to know, always had to be right once she'd set her mind. "I searched every record I could this morning, and all I found was a reference to an American volunteer named Jack Harkness during World War II. But he died in 1941."

"Obviously not the same man then," Ianto pointed out.

"Who's not the same?" Owen asked, coming up from the medical bay.

"Gwen thinks there's something strange about Ianto's…about the man who helped us last night, Jack Harkness." Tosh stopped herself, and Ianto gave her a grateful look. Owen sat down in his chair, put his feet up, and smirked.

"Other than he's sleeping with Jones? Because that's a dead giveaway for major psychosis right there."

"Sod off," Ianto muttered.

"So it's true, then? You're dating the legendary Jack Harkness?"

"Legendary?" asked Gwen, turning toward him in surprise. "I've never heard of him, and I couldn't find out anything about him."

"I still don't understand why you were looking," Ianto reminded her. She didn't answer.

"Harkness is a Cardiff legend," Owen replied. "I'm surprised you haven't heard about him before now. He worked here until his whole team died on New Year's Eve and he quit Torchwood for good." He threw a rubber ball into the air. "Lucky sod."

"Owen!" Tosh exclaimed, as all three of them glared at the doctor.

"I meant the quitting part, not the dead team part. Christ, you're so touchy," he muttered.

Gwen looked at Tosh. "Have you heard of him?

"Yes," Tosh admitted. "I knew he worked for Torchwood. They say he still helps out, when he can—chasing Weevils, leaving tips and tech."

Gwen turned back to Ianto and patted his knee. "Just be careful, all right? He sounds a bit dodgy, like a vigilante or something."

"I appreciate the concern," Ianto replied in his dry, butler voice. "But I'm perfectly capable of managing my own life outside these four walls. Now, if you don't mind, I've got to write up my undercover adventure. Owen, did you finish those autopsy reports?"

"Working on it," the doctor replied, still throwing his ball around.

"Owen," Ianto started, but the doctor shut him down.

"I'll do it," he snapped. "My hand was cramping."

"Right." Ianto stood and took his coffee over to his station, knowing they were very likely to keep talking about him and Jack Harkness even though he was halfway across the room and could still hear them. Gwen's concern bothered him: where had she come by it? She was naturally suspicious and notoriously clueless about her teammates' lives, but Ianto wondered if she'd drawn her own conclusions from the few facts she had, or if David Evans had said something to her.

Which didn't make sense, as Evans had been nothing but respectful of Jack during the cleanup of the Weevil incident. That he'd expressed any appreciation at all still made Ianto shake his head in wonder. He wanted to know why David Evans was so enigmatic when it came to Jack, and why Gwen was so worried, but then the Rift alert went off, and he put off the report he was working on to track down some space junk with Tosh.

* * *

The Rift continued to act up for the rest of the week, until another alert went off first thing Saturday morning. Ianto frowned; it looked like it was part of the larger pattern Tosh was tracking. Tosh was off, though, heading out of town for the weekend, and the others weren't in for their weekend rota yet. Ianto was only there because he'd spent the night at Jack's and had decided to check in before leaving for the afternoon.

He went up to David's office to report the alarm. His boss was already looking at it on his own screens.

"Call Tosh," David said, barely looking back at him. "She's been working on this and should see it."

Ianto frowned. "She's planning to go to London for a family party."

Evans turned around in surprise. "That's right. Damn. Call her. If she hasn't left, have her meet you there and check it out before she leaves. It shouldn't take long. She's the one with the data, so she'll know what's going on better than any of us."

"Yes, sir," Ianto murmured. He hated disturbing Tosh and half hoped she'd already left. She hadn't, however, and agreed to meet him at the dance hall where the strange readings were happening. He took his own car, as Gwen and Owen had still not got in yet and might need the SUV for another call. Tosh beat him there, standing on the sidewalk with her laptop case flung over her shoulder.

"Thanks for coming, Tosh," he said. "I hope you're not going to miss anything in London."

"It's my grandfather's eighty-eighth birthday today," she replied. "I'm supposed to watch grown men throw rice, but I can be a few minutes late."

Ianto smiled. "Hopefully we can settle this quick and you can get on your way then."

"So, what have you got?"

"This is the Ritz dance hall," Ianto replied as they entered. "It's been derelict since 1989, but someone's complained about hearing music drifting out. Music from the 1940s."

They stood in the foyer, gazing around at the ruined building. It must have been quite a sight at one point in time, but now it was nothing but broken fixtures and peeling paint covered in graffiti and old flyers.

"Listen," Tosh said. "I hear something. Let's go up."

They went up the staircase into a larger room, but it was empty, wrapped in plastic and covered in dirt and dust. After looking around, they headed back downstairs, but they heard it again: laughter, and the distinct sound of jazz music. Hurrying back upstairs, they stopped in their tracks when they encountered a room full of people this time, dressed in old-fashioned clothing and dancing to the tunes of a swing band.

"They look so real," Ianto murmured. "Are they ghosts?"

"No, not ghosts," said Tosh, looking at her handheld scanner. "It's a temporal shift." She glanced up at Ianto in alarm. "We should get out."

They hurried back downstairs to find it also filled with people. As they left the building, an old man wearing a cravat held the door open for them. "Do call again," he told them, sending shivers down Ianto's spine.

"No thank you," Ianto muttered under his breath, then stopped abruptly as they stepped outside.

"It's dark," he said in surprise. "And where are the cars? Have they been stolen?"

"No," said Tosh. "We have."

Ianto glanced around. There was bunting festooned across the street, and banners everywhere. On the door to the dance hall was a poster proclaiming a Kiss the Boys dance…for Saturday, January 20, 1941.

"We're in 1941," he breathed.

Tosh was on her mobile, but slapped it shut with a frown. "It's no use, it's dead. I can't get through to the Hub."

"Because we've traveled back in time," Ianto told her, pointing at the poster. Her eyes widened, and she grabbed Ianto by the hand and pulled him inside.

"Come on. Let's get back inside. That's where we were when we crossed."

As they reentered the dance hall, Ianto was struck by the colors, the lights, the sounds, and the people. It was exactly like the stories his grandfather used to tell. "We really are in 1941," he said. Something occurred to him. "What if we can't get back?"

"We will," Tosh said, reassuring him much like she had in the Beacons. Then her face fell. "Only they can't help us back at the Hub because I have the latest readings in here." She patted her laptop case, only to glance up and see several people watching. "And now people are staring at us."

"We should try to blend in," Ianto said, placing his earpiece in his pocket and taking off his coat. He tried to think of what to do; he helped other displaced time travelers, but had never been one himself. There was nothing in the manuals about time travel other than to avoid changing the timeline at all costs.

"That's easy for you to say," Tosh murmured as she took her coat off as well. "You're Welsh. I'm the only Asian here!"

"And you're with me," Ianto told her, knowing immediately why she was so uncomfortable. It wasn't something she had to worry about in their own time, but they were stranded at a point in history where it could be dangerous. "I'll watch out for you. We'll figure this out. Come on, let's get a drink and sit down."

He led her to a bar and ordered a glass of wine and a pint of beer. The barman nodded. "Three and six, please," he said.

Ianto started to pull out his wallet, when he remembered his currency would be more than sixty years out of date. "Shit," he murmured, as it hit him how hard it would be to blend in if they couldn't even purchase food and drink. Eventually they'd need a place to stay, and clothes, which would probably mean finding a job, all while trying not to—

"I'll get them," said a voice behind them. Ianto turned to find a young soldier standing there and nodded his thanks.

"On one condition," the soldier continued. Before Ianto could stop him, he took Tosh by the hand and pulled her out onto the dance floor. Tosh looked positively panicked, as if she had never danced before. Ianto knew that wasn't true, had seen her face weevils and cannibals; she was just as concerned about the timeline as he was.

He took their two glasses from the barman with a nod of thanks and stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching them dance and trying not to worry. The woman in front of him was watching as well. "Why's George dancing with a Jap?"

Apparently, Tosh's concerns about her heritage were valid. Setting down their drinks, he stepped out onto the dance floor and tapped the man, apparently named George, on the shoulder. "May I?" he asked.

"I'm only borrowing her, mate," the man replied.

Ianto inclined his head toward the band. "I'd like to dance with her before the song is over."

"And I'd like to finish what I started," George said, twirling Tosh around again. She stopped and pulled her hand away hard.

"And I'd like to sit down," she snapped. She left the dance floor, still holding her case close. Ianto shrugged at George, hiding a grin, and left, guiding her back to their table, where she took her glass of wine and drank half the glass.

"Thanks for trying," she said, glaring across the dance floor to where George was talking to another man in uniform. He appeared to be getting a dress-down from the man, who was tall and dark-haired and inexplicably reminded Ianto of Jack. George turned to look back at them, then walked off. The other man made his way toward them.

"Sorry about that," he said. He had an American accent, which surprised Ianto. "The men are a bit lively tonight. It's the last day of OTU tomorrow."

"You don't have to apologize," Tosh said. The man shook his head.

"A lady deserves an apology," he said, holding out his hand. "Your name?"

Tosh glanced at Ianto, who shrugged. Sharing their names couldn't hurt the timeline too much, could it? "Toshiko Sato," she said. "And this is Ianto Jones."

"My apologies, Miss Sato," the man said, then turned to shake Ianto's hand as well. He had a nice smile, but a look of sadness in his eyes that betrayed it. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, 133 Squadron."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter I decided to split. Easier editing and hey, readers get more chapters! Surely you knew I'd send Ianto back, right? Like the others, a lot of the dialogue is taken from the episode with no copyright infringement intended. Changes have been made to fit the story and characters. Thank you for reading!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness, 133rd Squadron."

Ianto pulled back his hand as if burned and felt Tosh staring at him with wide eyes. "Sorry," he said, trying not to stammer. "It's just that…er, I know someone named Jack."

"No problem," the man said, glancing at Ianto with a puzzled frown. "Is he—"

He was interrupted by the strange-looking old man from the door stepping up to snap their picture with a large camera around his neck. He took two, thanked them, and left them standing there, slightly confused.

"So, are you volunteers, then?" asked the captain. "You don't look military."

"Something like that," Ianto murmured. He was still stunned, trying to understand how this man could be named Jack Harkness. Was it simply a coincidence? The man he knew as Jack Harkness had said he'd served during the war, but this was clearly not his Jack. His gut told him there was a connection, but he couldn't imagine what it was.

"Can I buy you another drink?" the man asked. "What's your poison?"

"Oh," said Tosh, looking to Ianto for support.

"Maybe later," Ianto replied. "We were about to step out for some fresh air."

"Of course," the captain replied. Ianto finished his drink and went downstairs with Tosh.

"Leaving so soon?" asked the old man at the doorway. Ianto ignored him and stepped outside. A small part of him hoped to find it daytime again, with his new car parked outside, but it was still dark, still 1941.

"Ianto," Tosh started as soon as they stepped outside. "That man, his name—"

"I know," said Ianto. "Jack Harkness. I can't explain it, though."

"Maybe it's a coincidence. There must be a lot of men named Jack Harkness."

Ianto gave her a skeptical look. "You mean, a lot of tall, dark, and handsome Americans named Jack Harkness living in Cardiff? No, something else is going on."

"It's not the same man," she said, though she sounded unsure.

"No, but there must be a connection." He held up a hand. "I don't know what, and I could be wrong, but I think there is. Right now, let's worry about getting out of here. What do we need to do?"

"I've been working on the recent Rift activity," Tosh replied, patting her briefcase. "I've got half the equation we need to get back. The other half is back at the Hub. If I can find some way of getting these figures back to them, then they can combine them and open the Rift to bring us back through."

"Only we're stuck in 1941 and they're in 2008," Ianto reminded her. "Any idea how to send an equation sixty years into the future?"

"No, but we'll think of something. We should stay inside, though, in case the Rift opens again."

Ianto nodded and they went back into the hall. They found an empty room, an office of some sort, and Tosh pulled out her laptop, grinning when it turned on. "It works!"

Even as she said that, the tinny computer voice announced that the battery was running low. Tosh swore and started writing down equations as fast as she could before the computer died.

"Did you get everything?" Ianto asked, peering over her shoulder at a mess of complex equations he only half understood.

"I need the coordinates of the dance hall," she said, "so I can work them into the equation. Then we need to get it to the Hub."

"Still wondering how we're going to do that," Ianto murmured. "Unless we—"

"Excuse me, what are you doing in here?" asked a voice from the doorway. "Who are you?"

Ianto glanced up, trying to suppress his guilt at trespassing. He stepped forward with his hand out to meet with the old man from the door, still wearing the large camera around his neck. "Ianto Jones, volunteer, and Toshiko Sato, friend and, er, fellow volunteer."

"I'm Bilis Manger, the manager. Are you also a scientist, then?" he asked, indicating Tosh's laptop case.

"Oh," she said. "Yes, I suppose I am. From London."

"Right," said Manger. He had an odd, stilted manner that made Ianto suspicious, though he couldn't say of what. "Well, if you don't mind leaving my office now. I should go back out. It was nice to meet you."

He motioned them toward the door, following them out into the crowd. Ianto went back upstairs, Tosh close behind, and they found an empty corner to continue their talk.

"What now?" asked Ianto. "You said you needed coordinates? How do we get those?"

Tosh frowned, then turned and glanced around before smiling. "A pilot!" she said. "We ask a pilot—or better yet, a navigator."

"Brilliant," said Ianto. "Remind me always to get stuck in the past with you."

"We're not out of the woods yet," Tosh replied. "We still need a way to get the information to the team at the Hub so they can use it."

"Right," said Ianto, nodding. "I had an idea about that—we're in 1941. Torchwood Three's been in Cardiff since 1885. We could go to them for help, leave the equation for the others to find at the Hub."

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "You're just as brilliant as I am! The only problem is leaving the dance hall. We could miss the Rift opening."

"Then maybe we can get in touch with them some other way," Ianto said. "It's our best option right now."

She nodded slowly, obviously thinking. "Do you think they're looking for us in 2008? At the dance hall? Because we could also leave something here for them to find."

"Do you think it would last? Be safe?"

"I don't know," Tosh replied. "First we need those coordinates. Who looks like a navigator?"

"No idea," Ianto laughed. He glanced toward the bar, where the other Jack Harkness was sitting with his men. "Let's ask. And don't hate me."

They headed over to the bar, where the captain immediately clapped Ianto on the shoulder. It was strange, knowing this man shared Jack's name. He even sounded like Jack, in a way. There had to be a connection, and Ianto wanted more than anything to get back to his Jack to ask him. The thought of not seeing his Jack again—of being stuck in 1941—was beginning to weigh on him.

"Change your mind?"

Ianto nodded. "Think we did, thanks. So, who's the best navigator here?"

"Tim," said George, the man who had danced with Tosh. "He can't fly for toffee, but at least when he goes down, he'll know where he is!"

Tim punched him on the arm as everyone laughed. Ianto motioned Tosh forward with a grin. "There you go, Tosh. I found you a navigator to talk to!" He winked playfully as she stumbled forward. She recovered quickly, though not without shooting him a glare that clearly promised payback.

"Why don't we talk over there?" she asked, leading Tim toward a nearby table.

As Ianto watched them and hoped Tosh was able to get the information she needed, he almost missed Jack Harkness speaking to him. "Glad you came over. Want to sit down?"

Ianto nodded and followed him to a table. Nearby he could hear Tosh talking with Tim about the sunrise and other things she would need for her equation. George kept talking about the upcoming mission until the captain stopped him. "Care for that drink yet, Ianto?"

"I'll have a pint, thanks," said Ianto. The captain went to the bar, where a blond-haired woman came up and spoke with him. She joined them at the table and the captain introduced her as Nancy. It was clear Nancy had eyes only for Jack Harkness. Ianto watched and listened quietly to the talk around him. He could tell now that the men seemed wound up, and that the women were sad to see them leave. He couldn't imagine being in their position, knowing it could be their last night together. He hoped he hadn't spent his last night with Jack. His thoughts were interrupted when Tosh returned with the navigator.

"I've got what I need," she said softly. "Now all we have to do is find a way to get a message to the team."

"Right," said Ianto. "What about—"

He was interrupted by someone at the table, asking about him and Tosh. The woman who had seen her dancing with George accused her of being a spy. Ianto almost stood up to leave, but Captain Jack touched his arm.

"We know she's not a spy," he said. "Sit back. Stay with us."

Ianto sat down and turned to Tosh. "We need to get out of here before I hit someone."

"What about Bilis's camera?" she asked as if she hadn't heard him. "Photographs last, don't they?"

"As long as it's protected," Ianto said. Tosh nodded and stood up again, clearly focused on their mission. Ianto started to join her, but she waved him down.

"I can manage," she said. "You stay, see if you can't find out more here." She turned to the others and excused herself. Ianto sighed into his pint.

"I'm sorry if we scared her off," said the captain. Ianto shook his head.

"It's not that. She had something else to take care of." He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "So how did you come to be in Cardiff?"

"I had to rest up," Captain Harkness replied. "Injured my back bailing over Kent."

Which was when Ianto remembered something Gwen had said at the Hub, when Tosh and Owen had been ribbing him about dating the legendary Jack Harkness. She had said all she could find in the records she'd searched was a Captain Jack Harkness who had died in 1941. Which meant it apparently wasn't that common of a name, and that the captain had less than a year to live. Ianto knew he couldn't say anything, though, because it could change the timeline. What would he say, anyway? 'By the way, I'm from the future and I'm pretty sure you're going to die this year, so be careful?' He shook his head of the thought and focused on the conversation.

They talked about the captain's posting and his injury. Captain Harkness asked a few questions about Ianto's work which he answered as vaguely as he could. Nancy, the woman he'd talked to earlier but not much since, soon stood with a heavy sigh.

"I should go."

The captain stood with her, and Ianto tried not to listen to their awkward conversation. He glanced around for Tosh, hoping to escape the uncomfortable moment, but didn't see her and hoped she was all right. Captain Jack walked Nancy, looking disappointed, to the door and returned to the table.

"It's been a good few weeks," he said softly, his eyes sad once again.

"But nothing more?" Ianto asked.

"She's a sweet kid, but I need to look after my men tonight."

Ianto couldn't tell if the man regretted one or the other—leaving Nancy or staying with his men. "You could go after her. At least kiss her goodbye?"

"It's a routine training exercise. I'm hardly going to die."

"You never know what can happen," Ianto murmured, thinking of his last day at Canary Wharf and all the things he wished he had done differently if he had known his world was about to end. "At least tell her goodbye. So you don't have any regrets."

The captain finished his drink, watching Ianto curiously before he stood up and went after her. When he came back, he looked even more upset. "That made things twenty times worse. Now she thinks she's in love with me."

Ianto didn't know what to say, and they sat there in silence. It was clear that the other man was both upset and scared, but Ianto had no words for him. He could relate, though, and was trying to think of something to say, some way to reassure the man, when the air raid sirens went off. The manager, Bilis Manger, started to direct everyone to the bomb shelter.

"Tosh?" Ianto called into the crowd. "Tosh!

"Ianto!" she called back, and they held hands as they walked toward the basement with the crowd. Everyone else seemed used to it, however, and moved calmly toward the shelter.

"Did you manage to take a picture?" Ianto asked quietly.

"Yes, but I didn't get the first part of the equation in the photo! I need to add the rest. If they find it, they'll keep looking for the rest, right?"

"I don't know," Ianto said. Things were looking bleaker and bleaker. If they couldn't leave the full equation for the team to find in 2008, it was entirely possible they could die in the war before they were rescued.

They made it to the basement, where people were huddled together, some holding hands, some kissing for what could be their last time. Ianto started thinking about Jack, his Jack, and the very real possibility that he might never see him again. He felt a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with the siren.

"We need to get out of here," he murmured to Tosh. "We should go to Torchwood Three."

"We need to stay here, where the Rift opened. Otherwise we might miss another opening." She sounded frustrated. "I've got to finish the message, but pencil will fade. I need something else—and some way to leave it for them." Ianto glanced around and found a coffee canister in a nearby cupboard.

"How about this?" he asked, thinking it could hold the message; the team might be more likely to find it given their addiction to coffee. She nodded and sat down. To his surprise, she cut her hand with the end of the tin and began to write the rest of the equation in blood. Just as she finished, the bombs stopped and the sirens went silent.

"I'm done," she said, holding up the canister. She tucked it into a corner. "The rest of the equation is hidden in there. As long as they find it, they should be able to use it with the numbers on the photograph and get us back."

Bilis Manger began ushering everyone back upstairs. Ianto ended up walking next to Jack Harkness. One of his men asked about having a drink, but the captain shook his head. "I'd like some time in private with Mr. Jones first. Another drink, Ianto?"

Ianto nodded in surprise and continued upstairs with him while Tosh went to clean her hand. They stood in the gallery, watching the dance floor fill up again.

"Why did you tell me to kiss her goodbye?" the captain asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"I know what it's like to have regrets," Ianto replied. "To wish you'd said goodbye when you'd had the chance." He glanced sideways at the captain, who was gazing out at the crowds with a soulful look in his eyes. "Your men will be fine. Maybe you should go to her."

"Maybe," the other man replied, though he didn't seem convinced. "Is Toshiko your woman?"

"No," Ianto replied with a smile. "No, she's a good friend, though."

"Is there anyone?" the captain asked. "Anyone you're missing tonight?"

"Yes," Ianto said softly, trying not to sigh despondently as he thought of his Jack back in 2008. "There is."

The other man was quiet for a moment. "You said you knew someone named Jack," he said after a moment. "Is it him?"

Ianto glanced at him in surprise, not sure what to say. This was a time when same sex couples were more than frowned upon. It was illegal, and the last thing Ianto needed was to be arrested for admitting to something that in his time was more far common and accepted. Taking a deep breath, he simply nodded, hoping he hadn't sentenced himself to jail—or worse—but he felt the need for honesty, and did not want to deny the truth.

"You're not from around here, then," Captain Jack replied. Ianto nodded again. "I think I'd like wherever you're from," he said softly.

Ianto reached over and took the captain's hand, sensing the man's need for even a simple connection and hoping no one got the wrong idea. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wish things were different here—"

"Ianto!" Tosh shouted nearby. A bright light had erupted on the dance floor and people were backing away. It was the Rift, opening to bring them back. "Ianto, we need to get out! We have to go now!"

Ianto squeezed the other man's hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I have to go. Good luck tomorrow." The look on the man's face almost broke his heart. Here was a man much like his Jack, trapped in a time he didn't belong, all because couldn't be who he really was. Even worse, this man would soon die, and Ianto felt the injustice of it, that this Jack Harkness wouldn't live to see a better day for men like him.

He glanced back once more before stepping through the light. It was much different than when he and Tosh had ended up in 1941: it tingled and tickled at the same time, and he found himself stepping out into an empty, derelict dance hall feeling slightly breathless.

"We're back," gasped Tosh.

"But when?" Ianto asked. Then he heard Gwen calling for them. They hurried outside and found themselves enveloped in a group hug.

"You made it!" she exclaimed. "You're back. David, I've got them. They're back!"

"How long were we gone?" asked Ianto.

"Several hours," said Gwen. "Come on, let's get out of here before it happens again. Something's not right about this place."

Ianto glanced back at the dance hall. It appeared perfectly normal now, old and run down, ready to be demolished. There was no sign of anyone having ever spent their last night dancing with their loved ones to the sounds of Glen Miller. He sighed, wondering what had happened to Captain Jack Harkness.

He drove back to the Hub alone, deep in thought, the others following in their own cars. As they walked in from the parking garage, Tosh asked Gwen how they had managed to open the Rift.

"We had help," Gwen replied, the barest hint of a frown crossing her face. "Someone's waiting for you, Ianto."

Ianto wondered what she meant until he stepped through the cog door and saw Jack—his Jack—standing up by Tosh's station, studying the monitors with David Evans by his side. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Why was Jack in the Hub? David had repeatedly told him to keep Jack away from Torchwood, and yet here he was, back at Torchwood. Was he the one who had helped bring them back?

Jack grinned and walked over to him, stopping when he saw the confused look on Ianto's face. "I'm not sure whether to hug you or shake your hand," he said by way of greeting.

"That depends," Ianto replied. "Why are you here?"

"He brought you back," David Evans called.

Ianto stared at Jack once more. "You helped them?" he asked. "You came back to Torchwood to help them?"

"To help you," Jack replied. "I came back for you."

Ianto stepped forward and embraced him, not caring who might be watching. He was back in his own time, and he was with Jack, and he couldn't imagine anything better than having Jack by his side at Torchwood.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really rather liked sending Ianto back instead of Jack. It avoids so many uncomfortable issues with that entire episode. I hope you enjoyed it, too. Let a girl know—comments make authors grow and blossom like spring flowers. The next update (Thursday or Friday) starts dealing with the repercussions. Looking at 17 chapters now. Thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

"I still don't understand what you're doing here," Ianto said, leading Jack upstairs to the conference room. David had sent them ahead of the others so they could talk privately for a few minutes before the official team debriefing. Ianto wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Jack sat against the edge of the table, hands crossed over his chest. It felt right, like he belonged there in his braces and wrist strap, but he seemed more worried than relieved, as if something was weighing on him even with Ianto's safe return.

"Evans called me," Jack told him. "He said you'd been taken by the Rift."

"And he asked you to come in?"

Jack cocked his head. "Not at first. He asked if I could find you. I don't have that kind of capability, to time travel. Not anymore. He called again and said they had a way of bringing you back, but that they needed my help."

"With what?" Ianto asked. "Did they find the equations Tosh left?"

"Yes, they did," Jack said with an impressed smile. "And they were brilliant—she's amazing, leaving them the way she did." He paused. "Some of the numbers were still missing, though, clearly scratched out, but we did our best to pull it all together."

"I suggested we go to Torchwood Three, leave a message there, but Tosh said we needed to stay in the dance hall." Something occurred to Ianto then, standing in front of Jack. "Would you have been there, at Torchwood? In 1941?"

Jack shook his head. "There were too many of me floating around at that time, so I made sure I was away. And she was probably right about staying near the opening. No, they needed a piece of the Rift manipulator."

Ianto frowned. "And you had it? You kept a piece of the Rift manipulator when you left?"

"Of course not!" Jack exclaimed. "I may be a lot of things, but I am not a petty thief. I came in and saw what was missing, told them what to look for. Owen found it in Manger's office."

Something was trying hard to make sense, but it was just out of reach. "How did the manager of an old dance hall get a piece of the Rift Manipulator?"

Jack nodded in agreement. "Good question. How was he talking to you in 1941 and yet also talking to Gwen Cooper at the dance hall a few hours ago?"

"He's a time traveler?" Ianto suggested, and Jack nodded again. "So, the bigger question is why—why did he have a piece of Torchwood equipment? And why was he in both times interacting with us?"

Jack stared down at the floor before looking up at Ianto. There was a sense of conflict in his face, confusion in his eyes. "I think we're being manipulated—Torchwood, that is," he added.

"To what end?" Ianto asked, and then it clicked. "The Rift."

"The Rift," said Jack. "It's the only explanation. He wanted to open the Rift." He glanced out the window into the Hub and moved closer, lowering his voice. "Ianto, opening the Rift is dangerous. It's volatile and unpredictable, and there are  _always_  consequences. I didn't want to help them at first."

Ianto suddenly understood why Jack seemed so uncomfortable. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "I see. I understand, really, I do."

"No, you don't," Jack said, moving closer still and taking Ianto's hand. "I didn't want to do it, to open the Rift, but then I thought about you…about never seeing you again… I couldn't let you die in the past and never see you again. I had to help you if I could."

"Oh," said Ianto, gazing down at their entwined hands, his heart racing. "I, er…I don't know what to say. I'm sorry—"

"No," Jack said, shaking his head. "Don't apologize. I did it for you."

Ianto swallowed again and met Jack's eyes. "When I was there, in 1941, all I could think about what getting back. To you. I think I—"

This time he was interrupted by the team bursting into the room. They sprang apart, Ianto coughing to hide the strong emotions swirling around him. He'd been about to say something he knew he shouldn't say, let alone feel…and yet he did. He'd been so scared of never seeing Jack again, and so relieved to see him once more, that it could only mean one thing: he loved Jack. And Jack had risked opening the Rift to save him. Did he feel the same? Did it matter? He was leaving one day, with his Doctor. Ianto had told Jack he wasn't looking for a serious relationship, and yet here he was, knee deep in one that was doomed to end. It was too late to pull back; he could only wait for the day Jack left and his heart would break once more.

"Christ, I hope we're not going to have to watch them get all touchy-feely," Owen grumbled as he threw himself into a chair. "Teaboy snogging his boyfriend is not something I ever want to see."

"Teaboy?" asked Jack with a grin at Ianto. Ianto rolled his eyes at the nickname and sat down across from Owen. Jack sat next to him while Tosh and the others filled in around the table. David Evans started.

"It's good to have you both back," he said, smiling at Tosh, glancing at Ianto. "However, I don't think this is over yet."

"Manger," Ianto guessed, and Evans nodded.

"He's part of it. More importantly, I'm concerned about the Rift, and I'm not the only one. Jack?"

"We opened the Rift," Jack told the table. "The Rift Manipulator is years ahead of its time, but it's not something Torchwood has ever completely understood—what it does, how it works. And even if they did, playing with a rift in space time is still dangerous. There are  _always_  consequences."

"Like what?" asked Owen, his tone skirting the edge of belligerent. "It worked, didn't it? We got them back."

Jack shook his head. "We did, yes, but that doesn't mean it won't have an effect. The Rift could become unstable, opening wider. It might become more active, dropping stuff all over the city. There's no way to know what might happen next."

"Which is why we need to watch it even more closely," said Evans. "We knew it was acting up, so now we need to make sure it doesn't get worse. Tosh, I'm afraid we're going to need you here in Cardiff."

"That's all right," she said. "I would have missed the party in London anyway. I'll start working on the monitoring programs as soon as we're finished. Is there anything specific I should keep an eye out for?"

No one spoke up. "Bilis Manger," Jack finally said, sharing a glance with Ianto. "He's behind this. He wanted the Rift open."

"Why would anyone want to open the Rift?" asked Owen. "He's just an old nutter in an ugly tie."

Gwen had been silent, watching Jack with an unsure look on her face. "Jack might have a point," she said, sounding reluctant. "What do we know about Manger? He was in photographs from 1941, and yet he looked exactly the same when I talked to him at the dance hall. How is that possible?"

"It's definitely the same man," Ianto said, and Tosh added her agreement. "Jack said you found a piece of the Rift Manipulator in his office, and that part of Tosh's equation was scratched out, so he must know something about the Rift. What if he manipulated us—got us to investigate the dance hall so we'd get sucked back in time, forcing you to open the Rift to rescue us?"

"Why keep the piece, then?" asked Owen.

"And why scratch out my numbers?" Tosh asked. "It doesn't make sense—if he wanted it open, those numbers were necessary!"

Once again everyone was silent, until Gwen spoke. "Should we try to find him, question him?"

"No," Evans said almost immediately. "It's too risky. If he lured us to the dance hall so Tosh and Ianto would get sent back, then we need to avoid any contact with him so no one else is taken. Look into it, see what you can find in the archives and anywhere else, but don't talk to him."

Gwen appeared ready to argue, but Owen spoke first.

"And in the meantime, we simply wait and see if the world goes to shit after opening the Rift?" he asked. "What if it actually worked? What if we can control it?"

Jack shook his head. "You can't control it, no one can. It's too dangerous. You could let anything in, or out, or it could explode and rip the world apart tomorrow."

"Or it could bring back the people we've lost," Owen snapped.

"If you know where they are," Jack said, his voice tight. "We knew when and where Ianto and Tosh were, and we had almost all the information we needed to open it as accurately as we could to get them back. You can't open it to find someone if you don't have any idea of where or when they are."

Owen began to disagree, but Evans held up a hand. "Enough. I'm no expert in space-time physics, but Torchwood One destroyed themselves because they thought they could control a dimensional rift at Canary Wharf. Look where it got them. We can't let that happen here."

Ianto felt several sets of eyes on him and stared hard at the table until Owen snorted.

"I'm not talking about bringing Cybermen through," he said. "I'm talking about—"

"I know  _who_  you're talking about, Owen," Evans interrupted him, his voice hard. "But it's not happening, so stop thinking about it. Look, it's been a long day, so go home, rest, and be here first thing in the morning. We need to be ready to put out any fires. Understood?"

Everyone nodded and started to leave, though Evans stayed seated. "Ianto, Jack—could you stay for a moment?"

Ianto exchanged a surprised look with Jack, who looked apprehensive and ready to go. They sat down, waiting for the others to leave, before Evans clasped his hands in front of him and sighed.

"You know I hate saying it, but we couldn't have done this without you, Harkness," he started. Jack pierced him with a knowing look.

"I'm worried I only made it worse by helping you," he said.

"I know you are, and so am I, but we couldn't leave them stranded in the past. I also know something is bound to go wrong with the Rift now that we've toyed with it. We could really use the extra help when it does."

Jack was silent for a long moment. "All right. If the Rift goes tits up like we both know it will, I'll be around. But I'm not sure what we'll be able to do if it does."

Evans smiled grimly. "We'll do the best we can, and we'll have a much better chance with you on our side. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." Jack nodded curtly and stood to leave. Ianto stood with him, but Evans motioned him to stay.

"A word alone, please, Ianto," he said, then glanced back at Jack. "I'll send him out in a minute."

Jack grinned. "Good, because I haven't got my welcome back kiss yet!"

"Jack!" Ianto exclaimed, while Jack laughed and Evans rolled his eyes with a smile. Jack left the room, and Ianto couldn't help but watch him join the others downstairs. Tosh started speaking with Jack immediately, studying the computer monitors together, while Gwen and Owen watched warily, talking on the side. Behind him, Evans cleared his throat.

"I suppose he's not so bad," he said, earning a raised eyebrow from Ianto.

"I believe I told you that once, sir," he said.

"You did," Evans said. "I'm glad he agreed to help us. You should know he was extremely reluctant, though."

"He told me," Ianto said, wondering why Evans was sharing such information. "And I understand. He knows the Rift, knows what could happen as a result of opening it. And he's worried, I can tell."

"So am I," David murmured. "But we couldn't leave you behind…" He trailed off with a sigh. "Go home and get some rest. I want everything on Manger we can find in the morning. We need to figure out what he's up to before everything goes to hell. And it will," he said, before Ianto could ask. "So be ready."

"Yes, sir," Ianto replied. He felt the same anxiety, that something was coming, something they might not be able to stop. Yet with Jack, Ianto believed it would be all right.

* * *

They walked to Jack's place, knowing they would be back at the Hub early the next morning, if not sooner. Ianto tentatively reached out for Jack's hand and held tight, relieved when Jack squeezed his fingers and smiled. As soon as they entered Jack's flat, they were in one another's arms, touching and kissing and breathing sighs of relief: Ianto to be back, Jack to have him back. They barely made it to the sofa before they were naked, a desperate need to reaffirm that they were both there, in the same time, together. Afterward, they cleaned up and retreated to Jack's bed, where Ianto pulled Jack close against his chest and kissed his temple, his heart swelling.

"Thank you," he said once more. "For bringing us back. It was an amazing time to see and experience, but I don't know what I would have done if we'd been stuck there for the rest of our lives."

He could feel Jack smile. "I think you would have liked it," he said. "It was beautiful."

"I bet you fit right in," Ianto said.

"I like to think so," Jack replied with a laugh. "I have a lot of good memories of that time."

Ianto took a deep breath and asked the question that had been on his mind since the moment he'd met a certain RAF captain at the dance hall. "Jack, when we were in 1941, there was a dance, a Kiss the Boys Goodbye dance. We met a man, a captain with the RAF…he was leaving the next day." Another breath. "His name was Jack Harkness."

He felt Jack stiffen in his arms, then go limp, as if in defeat. "Tall, dark, and handsome?" Jack asked. Ianto nodded.

"He was a good man, a natural leader, but so sad," Ianto told him. "You would have liked him— probably snogged him."

Jack laughed lightly in his arms, but did not say anything. "I can't help but wonder how you have the same name," Ianto said quietly. "I know I once said I wouldn't ask about your past, but you're not from here, and—"

"—you're curious," Jack finished, sitting up to face him. "And there are no coincidences, I suspect. Not in this. You met him for a reason."

"Manger?" Ianto asked, growing tired of the name. Jack nodded in agreement. "But why?"

"I don't know," Jack replied. "But he must have his reasons, which means he must know about us. Maybe he hoped you would stay with the other Jack." He stopped and cocked his head, as if something important had occurred to him. "Because he knew I would do anything to get you back."

Ianto wasn't sure if that was the reason, it didn't make sense, but he understood there was a connection and needed to understand it. "So how is it that you share a name?" Jack took a deep breath and started to explain.

"My name isn't Jack Harkness. It was his name, the man you met in 1941. He died the next day. They went out on a sortie and were surprised by two formations of Messerschmitts. He destroyed three of the enemy. His men listened to his whoops of joy over the radio…then it all went quiet. He couldn't bail out because his whole plane was on fire, but his men all made it back to safety."

Ianto closed his eyes and thought about the man he had met at the dance hall. Yes, he could see that, and he wished more than anything he had said something, said more than good luck. "He was a hero."

Jack sighed sadly. "Yes, he was. When I was first in 1941—"

"Wait, you've been to 1941 more than once?" Ianto asked. "I know you're a time traveler, but how? Why?"

"The first time was after I had left the Time Agency—time travel was my job then, and it was amazing. But they were the ones who took my memories, so I left. I started running cons... I once told you I wasn't a good person…" He stopped, but shook it off and continued before Ianto could say anything.

"I was in London, 1941, and I needed a name to fit in. A soldier's name. Jack Harkness had just died, so I took his name. It was on that same trip that I met the Doctor." Jack turned to Ianto, his face earnest. "The Doctor changed me, made me a better man. After I was stranded here, I decided I wanted to live up to the name I had stolen. I enlisted and earned my rank. And I've been Jack Harkness for so long now, it is who I am: Jack Harkness, conman turned immortal."

Ianto didn't know what to say and leaned forward to kiss him first. "I think he would have been proud that you took his name, because here you are, saving the world."

Jack sighed. "Or destroying it. We shouldn't have opened the Rift, but I couldn't let you be stranded there."

Ianto nodded, a lump in his throat. Reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp, he pulled Jack down next to him. "We should sleep, so we're ready for whatever happens next."

They fell asleep tangled together, taking comfort in one another. Jack had said he would do anything to get Ianto back, and Ianto knew that he would do the same, even open the Rift, just as Jack had done for him. He loved him, and no matter what happened, he would always love Jack Harkness.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I really appreciate all the comments and reviews. Time to get the finale started - enjoy!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

The team was called in before dawn the next morning as the Rift began its inevitable breakdown. UFOs in India, sabretooth tigers in America, Celtic warriors in London. And Weevils—Weevils everywhere. If they weren't chasing down Cardiff's own displaced time travelers, angry and confused about their sudden appearance in the 21st century, then they were chasing Weevils. They finally took a short break, meeting in the main part of the Hub.

"All right," said David. "I've been fielding calls all morning. The government, UNIT, MI-5. Half the Western world and a good part of the Eastern are all asking the same question. Does this have anything to do with us?"

"And does it?" Gwen asked.

"I've run a profile on every reported anomaly so far and tracked every physical or temporal pattern," said Tosh. "The cracks in time all trace back here to the Rift. We're the center of it."

"They're ripples and aftershocks," Jack said quietly into the silence. "The Rift is splintering—because of us."

"Shit," said Gwen, her voice frightened and awed.

"We opened the Rift," David said, sounding weary. "We knew what could happen. It caused these temporal cracks, and now time is seeping through."

"If we hadn't opened it, they'd still be in the 1940s," said Owen, waving at Tosh and Ianto. "So, are we going to sit around crying into our lattes, or are we going to do something about it?"

Jack was staring at the computer screens, chewing his thumb. David Evans seemed to be waiting for him to offer a suggestion, but when Jack remained silent, he answered.

"For now, keep bringing those who've fallen through time back here, into the vaults."

"And do what with them?" demanded Owen.

"I don't know," Evans admitted. "But it's all we can do until we figure this out."

There was a strained silence until Jack glanced up. "We'll think of something," he told them. "This is not the end of the world. I'm certain of that."

Ianto wasn't sure whether to believe him, and not because he thought Jack would lie to them. Ianto worked for Torchwood, and was dating a time traveler: he knew the unpredictable nature of time. But before he could ask Jack about it, there was an alert from one of the computers.

"Priority one alert at the hospital," he told the others. "Mortality rate's gone through the roof. They're sealing off the area and designating a hot zone."

"I'll go," said Owen.

"Tosh, go with him," said Evans. "I want everyone paired up on this from now on. No one goes out alone."

"I'm fine on my own," snapped Owen.

Tosh grabbed her purse and followed him anyway.

"And you'll be even better with me alongside. Shut up and come on."

While Tosh and Owen went to the hospital, Gwen and David went to the police station to pick up a displaced Roman soldier. Ianto continued to track down more Weevils with Jack. They brought several back to the Hub, where they found Gwen talking to David down in the vaults as they watched their newest prisoner rage in his cell.

"Are you sure it was the same guy?" Evans was asking Gwen as he and Jack brought two more Weevils downstairs.

"It was definitely him. Bilis Manger, the caretaker of the dance hall." Ianto exchanged a surprised glance with Jack.

"That's all he said, sorry? What was he sorry for? What was he doing there?"

Gwen didn't have a chance to answer, as Ianto's Weevil was growing agitated. "Coming through," he said. He tossed his Weevil into a cell, then added Jack's catch, sealing the door behind them with a sigh. "Thirteen more reports of Weevils on the loose. We're not going to keep up at this rate."

"Everything's on the increase," Jack said. "It's the Rift."

"Can you stop them from making that noise?" asked Gwen, covering her ears. The Weevils were moaning, almost crying.

"If you've got any ideas how," Ianto replied.

"They may be time sensitive," said Jack. "This could be too much for them."

Ianto turned toward Evans. "We're now full in all vaults across all nine levels. Do you want me to activate the vaults below? We've never used them since I've been here."

Evans was staring into the last empty cell. "Sir?" Ianto prompted him. "David?"

"Do it," Evans finally answered, as if snapping out of a trance. He looked pale and upset. "Gwen, let's run another search on Manger. We need to find him. He's connected to this, I'm sure of it."

They left the vaults together, while Ianto watched the Weevils for a moment longer with Jack. The keening grew worse, and he felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound. He turned to leave, only to see the last person he'd ever thought he'd meet again standing in the corner.

"Hello, Ianto," said Lisa. She was whole again, his Lisa—pure and beautiful, not deformed by cold metal. Ianto couldn't help but gasp and step back. Jack, however, didn't seem to notice.

"What do you want?" Ianto demanded. "Why are you here?"

"There's only one way to stop this, before things get worse," she said. "People will die, Ianto. Thousands of people, unless you open the Rift."

"This isn't happening," he whispered. "Jack, do you see her? Tell me you see her."

But Jack didn't seem to hear him. Ianto called him again, and Jack snapped out of it. "What?" he asked. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Ianto stared at him, then turned around: Lisa was gone. He closed his eyes, shook his head. He was seeing things, that's all. Or it was the cracks in time, bringing visions of the dead as well as displaced travelers. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe. Let's get upstairs, see if they've found anything on Manger."

He did not tell Jack about his vision, putting it from his mind as something that had had no bearing on how to deal with the cracks in time. They couldn't open the Rift, it wouldn't fix anything. Like David, Ianto was convinced that Bilis Manger was the key. Gwen had seen him at the police station, which meant he was back in their time, and apologizing for something. The Rift? Why?

They went upstairs, where David was on the phone and Gwen was searching through more records for Bilis Manger. Jack went to Tosh's computer and studied the Rift readings. Ianto decided to make coffee before helping Gwen. He centered himself as he worked, and when he finished, he found that Tosh and Owen had returned.

"How was the hospital?" Ianto asked.

"Laugh a bloody minute," said Owen. "They've got an outbreak of the Black Death."

"What?" exclaimed Gwen, whirling around in her chair. "Oh, my God."

"Have they got it under control?" asked David as he stepped out of his office. "How are they coping?"

Owen shook his head; it was Tosh who answered instead. "Owen got the place quarantined and organized treatments for those who've been infected."

"Only consolation is, it's treatable these days," said Owen. "But what happens when the next carrier comes through? Someone carrying smallpox or Ebola or something from the future we don't even know about yet? What do we do then?"

"We do what we can," Evans said.

"We need to be prepared!" Owen exclaimed, waving his hands around. "Right now, we're helpless. All we're doing here is putting sticking plasters on gaping wounds."

"What do you suggest?" asked David.

"Tell us what to do!"

"Owen," warned Gwen

"No, come on. You're all thinking it too." Owen looked at them all before turning back to David. It was clear he was rattled and upset. "You're the leader here. You've been with Torchwood for over a decade. Tell us how the hell to get out of this."

Evans's face was pale, his lips pressed together. "You want to know how to get out of this? We don't. There is no solution, because this was never supposed to happen. The first thing we all learned when we joined Torchwood was don't open the Rift. But we did, and now everything that's happening is on us!" He took a deep breath, looked at all of them. "On me."

"We were trying to get Tosh and Ianto back!"

"And now people are dying," Tosh said softly, her voice sad.

"What, so we shouldn't have bothered? Let you die in the past?"

Tosh looked like someone had slapped her. Ianto stepped forward, putting a firm hand on Owen's shoulder.

"Step out," he said under his breath.

"What?"

"Get some fresh air or something," Ianto hissed. "Don't take it out on Tosh."

"What, the whole world is going to shit and you're throwing me out?"

"Yes," said Ianto, taking his arm and pulling him toward the door.

"For God's sake, both of you!" shouted Gwen. "We need to stick together on this."

"We need to seal the cracks in the Rift," said Jack.

"Or open it," said Owen.

"No," snapped David. "That's the last thing we do. Everyone is right, even Owen. We have to do something, but we have to work together."

"Any ideas?" Owen asked bitterly. He shook Ianto's hand off his arm.

"We find Bilis Manger," said David. "And we make him talk. Gwen, take Ianto bring him in. Owen, stay on the medical issues with Tosh, along with any more displaced time travelers. Jack, can we talk in my office? I have a feeling you know more about the Rift than any of us and might see something we're missing."

Jack nodded and followed Evans into the office. Owen growled at Ianto and went over to Tosh's station, grumbling under his breath. Gwen turned to Ianto and sighed. "I haven't found anything yet," she said. "Any other ideas?"

He shrugged and went to his station. "He travels through time. Let's start with history."

* * *

They ended up finding Bilis Manger in a clock shop. As they entered A Stitch in Time, Ianto couldn't help glancing around at the various timepieces and clocks covering the walls.

"Wow," said Gwen, her voice low. "Some of this stuff must go back centuries."

"If he can travel in time, maybe he scavenges antique pieces from the past," said Ianto, fairly certain a few pieces were thousands of years old. "He brings them here, sells them for a profit."

"We all have to earn a living," said Bilis Manger, emerging from the back room. Ianto froze, Gwen beside him. It was the same man he'd seen at the dance hall.

"You're from 1941," he said, feeling ridiculously inarticulate.

Manger cocked his head. " As you were. Hello, again."

"How can you be in two times at once?" asked Gwen. "That's impossible."

"Not for me. I can step across eras, like you'd walk into another room." He sighed, glancing around at the clocks and watches. "At first, it was the most incredible gift. Now I know the reality. It's a curse."

"Why?" asked Gwen, but Ianto knew what the man would say.

"I can see the whole of history," replied Manger, his voice affecting a sadness that did not resonate. "But I don't belong anywhere within it. So, your return to this time had a price."

"What do you mean?" demanded Ianto.

"I can sense it. Time's splintering. Things are falling through—people, illnesses. Soon it will spread across the world and destroy everything."

"How do we stop it?" asked Gwen. "Do you know what to do?"

Ianto did not like the way Manger smiled at them, as if he had been waiting for her to ask. "This city exists on a Rift in time. The only way to make it right is to fully open the Rift, let it take back what's fallen through."

Jack was right: Manger wanted them to open the Rift, all the way. "No. It's too dangerous."

"Can we even do that?" asked Gwen, glancing at him. He shook his head, but Manger answered.

"Of course you can. It's the only way to stop it now."

"Ianto?"

"No!" Ianto snapped. "You've seen what's happened already. If we open that Rift fully, millions more lives will be at risk."

"And yet, if you don't, more will fall through," said Manger. "Lives will be lost anyway."

"No," Ianto ground out. And yet in the back of his mind he heard Lisa, telling him that thousands more would die if they didn't open the Rift…

"We should bring him back to the Hub," Gwen murmured. Bilis heard her and shook his head.

"I don't think so. I'm sorry." And he vanished quite literally into the air.

For a moment, Ianto stared at the empty spot where Manger had stood. Then he slapped his comm. "Tosh! Trace the temporal activity around this location. Manger's disappeared. We need to find him. Gwen, let's go."

He hurried from the shop, breathing a sigh of relief when he stepped out into the shopping arcade. There was something about Manger that rubbed him the wrong way, his instincts screaming at him that the man wanted to do them wrong. Manger knew too much about Torchwood, for one, and given the sequence of events, Ianto was more certain than ever that the old man was manipulating them. He turned to say something about it to Gwen, but she wasn't behind him. Glancing at the shop, he saw her talking to Manger again.

"Never mind, he's back," he told Tosh.

"Did you find anything?" she asked. He didn't get to answer, for Gwen came bounding out of the shop and ran past him, a look of panic on her face.

"Gwen!" Ianto called, chasing after her. He glanced back at the shop and saw Manger standing there with an oily smile on his face. A part of him wanted to go back and drag the man to Torchwood, but something had spooked Gwen and she needed him more. "What's wrong?"

"It's Rhys!" she shouted over her shoulder. "He's in danger, I have to get to him."

He sped up and tossed her the keys, then jumped into the SUV just before she drove away. She was tight lipped on the short drive to her flat, but told him Manger had shown her a vision of Rhys covered in blood. He wondered if it was similar to his vision of Lisa, only his loved one was already dead. He also wondered if any of the others had seen anything.

She almost jumped the kerb pulling up to her building and ran inside without a look back. Ianto followed, hoping they weren't about to find a dead body.

Gwen burst into her flat, still in a panic. "Is that you?" a man's voice called.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she continued inside. "Yeah. It's me. Hello. You're cleaning the oven."

The man in the kitchen grinned. "Aye, somebody's got to, love. So, who's this then?"

Gwen looked surprised at seeing Ianto next to her. "This is Ianto, he works with Torchwood. Listen—"

"Ah, the bloke with the coffee?" Rhys asked, nodding as if he recognized Ianto. "Rhys Williams, mate." He extended his hand and Ianto took it, finding the other man's grip solid and strong.

"Rhys," said Gwen, still upset. "We've got to go."

He glanced between Gwen and Ianto. "Why, what's happened?"

Ianto wanted to know more as well, but Gwen shook her head. "We've got to go, that's all."

"All right, let me finish here first." He turned back to the kitchen, but Gwen's eyes went wide in panic.

"No, Rhys, we've got to go now."

He stopped and turned around, clearly frustrated and winding up for a rant. "Oh, here we go again. Look, you're always in a hurry ever since you started that bloody job—"

He didn't finish whatever he'd been about to say about Torchwood, for Gwen stunned him unconscious, apologizing as he fell. Ianto stared at her, wondering if she'd lost it.

"Help me get him back to the Hub," she said. "Please. He'll be safe there."

"We should call David," Ianto started, but she waved him off.

"Bugger David! I saw him die, Ianto! I can't let him die!"

Apparently, her vision had been of the future. Ianto nodded and helped her get Rhys to the car, driving them to the Hub in silence. They tucked him into a cell in the vaults, and Ianto let Gwen stay with him while he went back upstairs to Jack and David. They were still studying the Rift, trying to understand what was happening and how to stop it. Only they had nothing, and they sat in silence until Gwen came upstairs.

"Did he wake up?" asked Evans.

Gwen sighed. "Yeah, he did. Ianto, can you bring up the CCTV of the vaults? Just leave it on the screen. I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"Sure, no problem." Ianto pulled up the footage, and they all saw Rhys Williams, awake and clearly pissed off.

"Thank you for helping me bring him here," Gwen said to Ianto, touching his arm.

"I still don't understand how Bilis was able to show you that vision," he replied. "It's one thing for him to travel in time, but to show others the future? It doesn't make sense."

"He's playing with us," said Jack, glancing up from the Rift readings. "It's the only explanation."

Gwen shook her head. "But it was so real. I was in my flat. It smelt like my flat. It had all the sounds of my flat. I touched the blood. I can still feel it on my hands. Rhys's blood."

David came over to reassure her. "It's not going to happen, not here. Come on, there's still work to be done. We need to figure out his endgame—"

He stopped as all the lights went out in the Hub.

"What's going on?" Gwen asked, her voice shrill. Ianto was already at the computer. He felt his stomach drop when he saw the readings.

"We've got a security breach."

"Rhys!" Gwen ran toward the vaults, David right behind her. Jack took over Ianto's seat, pushing him after her.

"Go, I'll stay up here. Help her!"

Ianto hurried after them, his heart pounding. But they were too late: he entered the vaults only moments after Gwen to find her on the floor, holding Rhys Williams in her arms, keening hysterically as his blood soaked into her shirt.

Her vision had come true. Rhys was dead.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, I have used much of the dialogue from the episode 'End of Days' with no copyright infringement intended. I thought some of the earlier episodes were hard to rework with Jack, but this last one is proving the most challenging. I hope it lives up to expectations. I'm also hoping to finish quickly so I can move on to bigger, better stories. Thank you for reading!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Ianto stood on the stairs to the medical bay, watching as David slowly and carefully cleaned Gwen's hands of the blood of her boyfriend, now lying dead on the metal autopsy table.

"I have to tell his family," she said, her voice flat, her face blank.

"We'll deal with it," Ianto told her. She shouldn't have to go through that, not now, and not alone.

"The way you dealt with that porter the first time I met you?" she snapped, as if coming back to life. Just as quickly, she turned back to Rhys, deflated. "No, you won't deal with him, Ianto."

"I'm so sorry, Gwen," said David.

"You never even met him," she said, her voice cracking. She took a deep breath, her next words buoyed by anger. "But this is what happens here, isn't it? We all end up alone. Not me. No way. You bring him back!"

"We can't," David told her.

"The Resurrection gauntlet—"

"—was destroyed," said Ianto. He felt her pain, he really did. It was as if he was watching his own grief over Lisa's death, sitting before him, breaking apart.

"Then do something else!"

"There's nothing else," David told her. "I'm sorry."

"No, there's something wrong with time, so we…we can go back to that moment, to the very moment when he—"

"Gwen—"

She pulled her hand away from David, her face suddenly contorted in fury. "There must be something you can do, otherwise what's the fucking point of all this!" She stood, reached out to Rhys, then turned on David, hissing in anger. "You bring him back! Do you understand me? Bring him back!"

David's eyes were bright with tears as he pulled Gwen into an embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered over and over. Ianto had to look away, and found his gaze drawn to where Jack stood at the railing, his head down as he too avoided watching the heartbreaking scene. He glanced up, caught Ianto's eye, and Ianto saw that Jack too was devastated, though he hadn't even known Gwen or Rhys. Because it was only the beginning: more people would die. Lisa had said so, and Bilis had warned Gwen, and it had happened. Ianto wondered if opening the Rift was truly the answer.

At that moment, the cog door rolled open, and Tosh and Owen returned from another trip to the hospital.

"Oh, shit," Owen said, running down the stairs into the medical bay. "What happened?"

Tosh stopped at the top, staring at the scene. Ianto glanced up at her, answered her unasked question. "Gwen's boyfriend was killed, here in the vaults," he told her softly. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Owen laid a hand on Gwen's shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, backing away from them both and walking back to Rhys's side. She took his hand and bowed her shoulders, crying silently. David Evans dropped his head. Owen glanced around at them all.

"The hospital is turning into a fucking morgue. How many people have got to suffer?" he asked. "When we know what to do!"

"We don't," Ianto started, but Owen cut him off.

"We do. We open the Rift. We open it all the way and fix this."

Jack's head snapped up. "No, we can't. It'll only make things worse."

Owen sneered at him. "You're not Torchwood anymore, Harkness. You're just shagging the teaboy."

"Owen, he—" Ianto started, but the doctor cut him off.

"He has no say," Owen snapped. "We should open the Rift."

"Opening the Rift in the first place is what caused this!" Jack exclaimed. "You can't fix it by opening it even more. It's like starting a bigger fire to put out the first!"

"Bilis said open the Rift and everything goes back to normal," said Gwen, glancing at them with red-rimmed eyes. "Owen's right. I'm going to get Rhys back."

"Gwen," said David. "We can't."

"Yes, we can," she said. She turned her back and followed Owen upstairs.

"Tosh," called David. "Stop them!"

"No," she said softly from the top of the stairs. "We should help them, before more people get hurt."

Ianto wondered if she too had experienced some kind of vision. Owen obviously wanted Diane back, but why would Tosh agree to something so dangerous? She knew the Rift better than any of them. He had to admit, it was getting harder and harder to resist the pull—Lisa had told him in the vaults to open the Rift, before more people died. What if she was right? And yet, it was what Bilis Manger wanted, and the old man was clearly manipulating them. More than that, Ianto trusted Jack, who insisted the consequences would be even worse. Opening the Rift could not be the answer.

David looked too shell-shocked to do anything, his head down and fists clenched as if fighting some internal conflict. Had he too seen a vision? It didn't matter. They had to stop the others from opening the Rift. Ianto ran up the stairs, but Gwen was already at the computer.

"Enter Emergency Protocol One," Tosh told her.

"Get away from the computer, Gwen," said Ianto. "This is not the answer."

"Fuck you," Owen threw over his shoulder, standing next to Gwen as if guarding her.

"It's a trap," said Jack, coming up next to Ianto. "All these cracks around the world, they're diversions. This is what Manger wants. He wants you to open the Rift."

"What are you afraid of Harkness?" asked Owen. "It's not like you have anything to lose. Teaboy is still here."

Jack stepped forward with a scowl, but Gwen interrupted.

"Forget them. I need the password," she demanded.

"Rhea Silva," said Owen. How had he known that?

David Evans appeared at the top of the stairs then, his gun drawn, his face weary.

"Stop or I'll shoot," he said, but Ianto heard the lack of conviction in his voice and wondered if the others did as well. David was a good leader, and had made many hard decisions during his time at Torchwood Three, but Ianto did not believe he would shoot one of his coworkers, not even to save the world.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gwen snapped over her shoulder.

"Stopping you," he replied. "Step away from the computer."

"No," said Owen, drawing his own weapon and pointing it at David to hold him back. "We're opening the Rift and getting back what we lost." David closed his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to force himself to do something he didn't want to do—or stopping himself from doing something he did.

"It doesn't work like that," Jack insisted.

"You don't know that," Owen said.

"I do," said Jack.

"Shit!" Gwen slammed her fingers down on the keyboard. "We need retina prints—everyone's."

David stepped forward. "You're not getting them. It's over."

"Stay back," Owen snapped, flicking the safety on his gun.

"You can't bring her back," David said, stepping forward. "You can't bring any of them back."

"I can try."

"You're not in charge."

"Neither are you," said Owen, and he pulled the trigger, hitting David in the knee. Before he even hit the ground, Ianto had his weapon out and shot Owen in the left shoulder. Owen turned toward him, raised his gun, pulled the trigger. Ianto felt like he was watching in slow motion as the bullet raced toward him, as Jack shouted and jumped in front of him, as the bullet slammed into Jack's chest, as Jack crumpled to the ground before him.

"What have you done?" Ianto whispered, falling beside Jack. Jack's breathing was labored, the blood pouring from his chest already slowing as his life ebbed away. He opened his eyes, reached out for Ianto's hand.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," said Ianto. "You saved my life. Again."

"You have to stop them," Jack said, his voice fading. Ianto looked at the computer. Tosh was standing there now, typing furiously. An alert went off, and a warning popped up on the computer. She looked at Owen and Gwen, who both nodded. She hit the button.

"Too late," said Ianto. "She bypassed the retina scan somehow."

But Jack was already gone.

Every alarm in the Hub went off as the Rift Manipulator roared to life. Crackling beams of light shot up the water tower and exploded into the sky. Above the shriek of the alarms, Ianto could hear the Weevils howling below them. The Hub began to shake, glass shattered. The Rift was open, and it was furious.

"Get out, get out!" Owen shouted.

"What about David?" Tosh yelled. Gwen ran over to David and helped him stand, began dragging him from the Hub as Owen guided Tosh through the falling debris. Ianto sat with Jack, protecting him as he waited for him to revive. He had to. He couldn't leave Jack behind, not now. And he couldn't get him out by himself.

"Ianto!" yelled Tosh. "You have to get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving him," Ianto shouted back. He gripped Jack tight around his shoulders. He would come back. He was immortal. He had died from carbon monoxide poisoning and recovered; he would heal from the bullet wound.

"He's dead, teaboy," shouted Owen. "Get out now or you'll join him."

"Fuck you!" Ianto yelled. At that moment, Jack gasped back to life, inhaling deeply as he jerked in Ianto's arms, flailing blindly for support and grabbing Ianto by the shoulders.

"You stayed," he whispered. Ianto leaned down and kissed him, risking a quick look at Jack's chest: the bullet wound had closed completely. Jack was alive.

"We have to get out of here," Ianto said, helping him stand. "The Rift is open, we need to get away from the Hub."

Jack nodded, still weak, and Ianto helped him down the stairs and out of the Hub, dodging desks and chairs and the occasional rubble that fell from the walls. They stumbled outside and found the others in an alley, staring at Bilis Manger in horror.

"From out of the darkness, he is come!" the old man intoned to the sky.

"What are you talking about?" Gwen demanded, stepping forward as Tosh took over supporting David. Owen moved to her side.

"Son of the Great Beast, cast out before time, chained in rock and imprisoned beneath the Rift."

"Oh shit," murmured Owen.

"All hail Abaddon, the Great Devourer, come to feast on life!"

From above them came a great roar, as a monstrous shadowy figure, towering over the buildings, began to move through Cardiff. The ground shook. Car alarms went off. People screamed and fled for their lives. But as the shadow fell on them, they died in their place, nothing more than ash and dust on the pavement.

"The whole world shall die beneath his shadow," Bilis shouted. "I look upon you, my god, and know my work is done!"

Gwen whirled around and stared at them, eyes wide with panic. "How do we stop it? What do we do to stop it?"

No one said anything. David was grimacing in pain, Tosh was staring up in shock, while Owen stood frozen and shook his head, as if denying it was even happening. Jack let go of Ianto and stepped forward.

"I can stop it," he said.

David's head whipped up. "No!"

Jack turned toward Ianto. "Only you. Can you get me to an open space?"

"What are you going to do?" Gwen demanded.

"What Torchwood does," Jack replied with a brazen grin. "Save the world." He turned back to Ianto, waiting.

Ianto didn't know what to do, what to say. It was obvious Jack felt like he could stop the creature, but how? And if he did, he almost certainly would die, and how could anyone come back from that? Ianto wanted to shake his head, refuse, run away together, but Jack was right: they were Torchwood. Protecting Cardiff was their responsibility, especially after they had failed to stop the others from opening the Rift.

"All right."

"Ianto, no!" cried Tosh. Ianto ignored her and helped Jack toward the parking garage, moving as fast as they could while Jack regained his strength. Ianto hoped the others stayed safe and out of the shadow of the creature. He berated himself once more for not stopping them; they'd opened the Rift, and now Cardiff was dying. And Jack was sacrificing himself to stop it.

After making it to the SUV, he pulled out and started toward Porth Teigr, his heart racing. They were both silent, wrapped in their own grim thoughts during the short drive. "What do you plan to do?" he asked Jack as they stepped out of the car into the large open space Jack had requested.

Jack was silent for a moment. "If Abaddon is the bringer of death, let's see how he does with me. If he feeds on life, then I'm an all you can eat buffet."

Ianto turned to find Jack smiling grimly. "No! You're too weak." They watched as the monster roared, the ground quaking beneath his feet. Ianto felt like he was trapped in a Japanese horror film.

"It may be the only thing that stops him," Jack said softly. He turned to Ianto and took his hand, pulled him close for a long, passionate kiss. "I have to do this," he said.

"No, you don't," Ianto said. "We can go back to the Hub, find another way—"

"Too many people would die. You could die."

"So could you!" Ianto exclaimed.

"Maybe," said Jack. "Haven't yet, though."

"Jack, please—"

"No matter what happens," Jack interrupted him. "I want you to know…I love you."

"What?"

Jack kissed him again, then turned and walked away before Ianto could say anything. Abaddon was coming nearer, its shadow casting darkness over the open field.

"Jack!"

"Go!" Jack shouted at him. "Get away, far away!"

"I'm not leaving you!" Ianto shouted back, but Jack did not hear him. He was yelling at the creature, taunting it, bringing it toward him. Ianto dashed back to the car and pulled back, stopping out of the shadow. He wasn't going to leave Jack to face it on his own, to die alone. He would stay to witness, to help if he could. Because he loved Jack as well.

Even so far away, he could hear Jack screaming in pain. He fell to his knees and Abaddon roared in triumph. But then a strange thing happened: as the creature fed on Jack's life, a stream of energy connected them, growing stronger and stronger. The creature roared again as Jack flung out his arms, as if willing his energy toward the beast, hoping to destroy it. It fell to its knees, then collapsed as Jack tumbled over.

Ianto felt a strange jolt of energy, as if something in the very fabric of the air around him had shifted, changed. The creature disappeared, but Jack lay on the ground, unmoving. Ianto pulled the car up and ran to him, taking Jack's lifeless body in his lap and cradling him, murmuring mindless platitudes and promises. He held back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him, because he would not cry for Jack. Jack was immortal. He would come back.

And yet the longer he sat there, the more he feared that this time Jack would not wake up.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

"You're certain?" asked Gwen, her voice both compassionate and skeptical. "It's just that it seems impossible."

"It's not," Ianto told her wearily. They'd already been through this several times. Though he had not given them any details, he had been forced to tell them about Jack's immortality so that Owen didn't place Jack's body directly in the morgue. "He'll wake up."

"He's ice cold," said Owen. They were in the medical bay tending to David and Owen's wounds while Jack lay on the metal autopsy table. "No vital signs, nothing. Gwen's right—it's medically impossible at this point."

"He survived when you shot him," Ianto snapped. "I saw him die from carbon monoxide poisoning and come back. He said he couldn't die, not permanently."

"Maybe he was wrong," said Owen.

"He wasn't," said David Evans. He was sitting in a chair, his leg cleaned, sutured, and bandaged by the same man who'd shot him. His knee was seriously wounded, and he probably should have gone to hospital, but he had insisted on staying at Torchwood. "I've seen it too."

Ianto glanced up in surprise, and suddenly it hit him, the answer to something he'd been wondering about for weeks.

"You knew about Jack," he said, "because you saw him at Torchwood One." When David nodded wearily, Ianto continued. "Was it after his team died? When they held him for a month?"

"Yes," David whispered, his eyes slipping shut for a moment. "They did terrible things to him, to learn more. To see if he was truly immortal, figure out how it worked."

"They tortured him?" Gwen asked in horror. She seemed to have got over her initial concerns about Jack working with Torchwood, and had offered Ianto countless looks of sympathy since he had returned with Jack's body, even offering to make him tea.

"Torchwood One was, at its best, misguided," David said. "At its worst, it was arrogant and cruel. Their intentions were often in the right place—for Queen and country—but their methods left much to be desired, particularly when it came to anything alien."

"If it's alien, it's ours," Ianto murmured. He had known about Jack's mistreatment at Torchwood One; it was why Jack had left Torchwood, after all. To hear someone who was there admit it, however, was difficult. It made him doubt, once more, everything he had seen and done at Torchwood London.

"So, what do we do?" asked Owen. "We should at least transfer him to the morgue."

"He's not dead!" Ianto snapped.

"He is right now," the doctor snapped back. "We can't leave him here indefinitely. At least let us set him up downstairs. We can wait a day or to do anything else."

"Give it some time, Ianto," David said quietly. "He'll come back."

Ianto glared at Owen. "Fine. But I want to sit with him."

"Ianto—" Owen started in a tone of voice that was both exasperated and concerned.

"I'm going to sit with him," Ianto said.

"Better let him, Owen," David said. "Before he shoots you again."

Owen snorted. "Good thing he's a crap shot."

Ianto raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I was aiming for your shoulder," he said.

Owen had the good grace to look worried.

* * *

Ianto stayed with Jack for hours, leaving only to make coffee for the team and use the loo. He sat beside Jack and watched, paced back and forth and swore, even laid his head down next to Jack and fell asleep. When he awoke, he placed his hand on Jack's chest.

"Wake up, Jack," he murmured, but Jack did not wake up.

* * *

"How long are we going to wait?" asked Owen the next day, standing in front of the CCTV feed on Tosh's computer and watching Jack's body in the morgue.

"As long as it takes," Ianto replied, coming up behind them. "So leave him alone. Coffee?"

After handing out the coffee, Ianto went over to his station, where someone had laid Jack's greatcoat over the chair. He ran his hand over it, picked it up and held it close, refusing to cry in front of the others. Jack would come back.

He took the coat downstairs and laid it next to Jack, so that he could wear it when he woke up.

* * *

"It's been three days, Ianto," said Gwen, trying to be gentle. "We may have to face up to it. He's not coming back."

"I believe in him," Ianto insisted. He held back a yawn; he'd been at the Hub since the team had opened the Rift, catching short naps sitting next to Jack or on the sofa, cleaning up in bathroom. He'd only started to leave Jack's side for longer periods of time due to the sheer amount of work that needed to be done, but he always returned to Jack, held his hand and spoke to him, encouraging him to come back. This was where the team found him, and once more tried to convince him to go home.

"You should let him go, Ianto," said Gwen. "I know it's hard, but he's gone."

"Go home, get some rest. Change, for Christ's sake," the doctor grumbled.

Ianto was tired and hungry and out of clean clothes, and though he wouldn't admit it, he was losing hope. David had somehow hobbled downstairs with the others and laid a hand on Ianto's shoulder.

"I'll stay with him for a while," he said. "Just in case. Then he won't be alone."

Ianto nodded gratefully. He touched Jack's cold hand once more before nodding silently at the others and making his way upstairs. He didn't stop until he had left the Hub and was in his car, ready to go back to his flat.

And that was when he finally broke down and let his fear consume him. Jack wasn't coming back.

* * *

As soon as Ianto entered his flat, he collapsed on the sofa and slept for six hours. Waking in a panic, that he had left Jack alone in the morgue for so long, he jumped in the shower, flung on a suit, and hurried back to the Hub. It was late afternoon, and he'd missed lunch. Though he was starving, he did not stop for something to eat; he hoped the others had remembered to feed themselves in his absence.

He went directly downstairs, where David was still sitting with Jack, like he'd said he would. Ianto had to hold back tears: he was relieved that David had stayed with Jack, but devastated that Jack was still dead.

"I'm sorry," David said quietly as Ianto pulled up a stool and sat on the other side of Jack. "I'm sorry that he had to do this, sacrifice himself. It's my fault he's gone and that you've lost someone you cared about again."

Ianto gave him a puzzled look. "It's not your fault," he said. "Jack chose to confront Abaddon. He did it to save the city. You didn't open the Rift."

"I didn't stop them," David pointed out with a bitter tone to his voice.

"I don't think you could have, short of shooting them all," Ianto said quietly. "They were too determined. Rhys's death made it real."

"They only wanted back what they'd lost," David said. "Gwen wanted Rhys, Owen wanted Dianne." He paused. "Tosh said she saw her mother when they were at the hospital. That her mother warned her something was coming, and that she'd have to do it if there was no other way. That's why she opened the Rift."

Ianto was silent for a long time, gazing down at Jack's pale face. "I saw Lisa," he admitted, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "In the vaults. She told me more people would die if we didn't open the Rift."

David nodded, as if he understood. "I saw my brother," he said. "He said not to trust him, not to listen to him. I thought he meant Bilis Manger. Then I thought he meant Harkness." He shrugged. "Then I didn't know what to believe. I froze."

"You tried to stop them," Ianto said. "You must have made up your mind."

"I did," he said with a cynical laugh. "Bloody Jack Harkness."

Ianto glanced up in surprise. "You believed Jack instead of Manger?"

"I've been here long enough to understand some things about the Rift, and more importantly, I know what happened at Torchwood One…" David trailed off, his eyes going distant. "I knew opening it wouldn't bring Gareth back, not after so long. I didn't know about Rhys Williams or Diane Holmes, but I couldn't do it…it felt wrong. It was too convenient, too easy."

"It was a trap, like Jack said," Ianto murmured. "Set by Bilis Manger." He took a risk and continued. "You said you were at Torchwood One when Jack was there, eight years ago. He told me they let him go with no explanation. He thought someone must have talked Yvonne into it. It was you, wasn't it?"

David ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath before meeting Ianto's eyes. "Yes, it was me. Yvonne had only been in charge for a few months, and I was her PA. But I didn't talk her into it, as it was clear she wouldn't listen. She was even more bull-headed back then," he said, shaking his head.

"And I thought she was difficult when I was her PA," Ianto murmured, and they shared a smile. David continued his story.

"I forged the orders to release him," he said. "When she found out—well, I knew I'd be Retconned out of service when she realized what I'd done. Which was why I made sure to leave myself all kinds of triggers. And that's what happened: she was furious, she Retconned me and dumped me in the civil service, and a week later I was back at the front door."

"You came back?" Ianto asked in surprise. "I can't believe I never heard this story."

"I can't imagine she likes talking about it, that's why," David replied. "I beat her at her own game, and she knew it. She took me back, but my penance was Torchwood Three. I kept my memories, but was sent to Cardiff with minimal contact."

"That explains a lot," Ianto replied. "Why you had so much independence over here, why she hated Jack so much whenever he was in London."

"I'm surprised he helped them, after what they did," David said, his eyes haunted. "He's either a damn fool or the bravest man I know."

Ianto gazed at Jack fondly, resisting the urge to run his fingers along Jack's cold face in front of David. "A bit of both, I think. He's a good man. He doesn't deserve this, any of this." He pierced David with a curious look. "You risked a lot to help him. Why?"

"I couldn't stand by and do nothing," David said. "I'd been with Torchwood for several years, and I didn't like what they were doing, the way they treated others, especially aliens. And then to see them do such things to another human being, a member of Torchwood, to treat him like a lab experiment…" He shook his head. "I couldn't let someone suffer like that. I'm no hero, but my own conscience wouldn't let me stand back. It didn't matter if I was Retconned, because I couldn't stay with an organization that did such things.

"Yet you set up your triggers, you came back," Ianto pointed out.

"So did you," David threw back. "After Canary Wharf."

"I was trying to help Lisa," Ianto argued. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for her. I might have taken the Retcon package the FOC offered."

"I suppose I was trying to help too, in my own way," David mused. "I told myself that if the triggers worked, then I would go back and try to make a difference. If not, then it wasn't meant to be. I know it sounds like she exiled me to Cardiff, but in a way, it was the best possible way for me to try and change things: I could start over with a new team, away from the London bureaucracy, and try to do things differently."

"I can't believe she let you," Ianto said, shaking his head.

"She didn't know what she didn't know," David replied with a short laugh. "I sent my reports, some useful tech. She sent a few spies, but they were rubbish—one even turned on her. Eventually she gave up when we became uninteresting and underproductive. She developed her pet projects, and that damn sphere showed up, and the dimensional rift…" He trailed off. By that point, Ianto had been working at Torchwood One and knew full well what many of those projects had led to: the destruction of Torchwood London.

"I think Jack would thank you, if he could," he said softly. "You saved him."

"I didn't save him," David said, shaking his head. "I helped him out of a bad situation. I'd read about him, you know. Saw his files, the ones he didn't manage to purge…heard stories. He was a good agent, if reckless and unpredictable. He knew so much, worked so hard…he should have been the leader here after Alex died. He could have been a good one."

Ianto smiled at the thought, thinking that Jack would have hated such a thing. And yet…he could see it. Jack had a charm about him, an almost magnetic charisma. People would follow him. He'd been a leader in the war, after all. And he knew so much, being from another time, another planet. Yes, Jack would have been a good leader of Torchwood Three had he been offered or taken the job.

"You should ask him when he wakes up," David said softly. "If he wants the job."

"What?" Ianto asked in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

David pointed to his bandaged leg. "I'm not going to be chasing Weevils for a while, if ever. It wasn't a crippling shot, but it's going to take time, and Owen still hasn't ruled out reconstructive surgery. Months of therapy, and in the meantime, it's been hell getting about around this place. Too many damn stairs."

"So…" Ianto still couldn't believe it. "What, you're leaving the Hub? Leaving Torchwood?"

"There's nowhere else for me to go," David said quietly. "One is gone, and Two doesn't need a potential invalid."

"David," Ianto said, using his bosses name for effect. "You're too young to retire! You have too much to offer."

"I'm not sure how much more I have to give," he replied, then shrugged. "It's not a done deal. If the FOC needs me at a desk, or even UNIT…" He trailed off. "But I can't stay here, not like this, not after what happened with the others."

"I came back," Ianto said sharply. "After Lisa died. After you shot her."

"Then you're a stronger man than me," David said. "Ianto, nothing has gone right since One fell…first Suzie, and then you, and Tosh, and now this…my time is up," he said. "It's time for me to move on, for someone else to take over and do right by Torchwood, and by Cardiff."

"You can do right!" Ianto exclaimed. "You've been protecting the city for years! Those things…none of them were your fault."

"And yet they were," David said. "Because I'm the leader. And I missed them."

Ianto pressed his lips together, shook his head. "No," he said. "You're wrong. You can't leave. Who would take over?"

David crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. "Well, you practically run the place as it is," he pointed out.

"Absolutely not," Ianto snapped. "You're mad for even suggesting it."

"Tosh? Owen?" David suggested.

"Tosh wouldn't want it either," Ianto said. "She's at her best behind a computer, and Owen is better with dead bodies, not living."

"Gwen, then?" David said. "Only she's the newest, and while she'd probably relish it, she—"

"—she doesn't get it most of the time," Ianto finished for him. "She's made too many mistakes and refused to learn from them. The world is still too black and white for her."

"My thoughts exactly," murmured David. "Which brings us back to Harkness."

They both looked down at Jack, cold and silent between them.

"What do you think?" David asked.

"I think it's mad," Ianto replied. "And yet I don't."

"Would he do it? Come back to Torchwood?"

Ianto thought about it, tried to imagine what Jack wanted. That he wanted to protect Cardiff was never in doubt, but he'd worked alone for years. Would he want to return to the organization that had thrown him out? Would he want to lead it? Ianto believed Jack would be a strong, if untraditional, leader, but he had no idea whether it was a job Jack wanted. And then there was the small matter of Jack leaving someday with the Doctor to find the answers to his questions.

"I don't know," Ianto answered. "You can only ask."

"Well, if he'd hurry and wake up, I'd turn over the keys right now," David said. Ianto suddenly felt inexplicably sad. He'd only known David Evans for eight months, but it was still hard, knowing his boss was leaving for such heartbreaking reasons.

He was about to say something to that affect when Owen walked into the morgue, grumbling about something under his breath.

"Oi, teaboy," he called as he walked toward them. "Tosh needs your help with something on the Rift Manipulator. And the rest of us need some coffee."

"I believe you mean you'd  _like_  some coffee, please," Ianto replied.

"Whatever," Owen said, waving him off. "How's our dead guy? Pulled a Jesus yet?"

"Owen," David murmured, but Ianto rolled his eyes in response.

"Not yet," Ianto told him. "But I'll be sure to make you a good strong cup of decaf while we wait."

"Hey!" Owen exclaimed, but Ianto ignored him. David motioned him to go on upstairs, indicating he'd stay once again. Owen began examining Jack's body. Ianto watched, not wanting to leave Jack to the doctor's harsh treatment. When Owen was finished, he shook his head.

"You two really sure about this?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," said Ianto. "I believe in him."

Owen shrugged. "It's your mental state going to the dogs, not mine. But we can't wait much longer, or his body will start to decompose. I'm surprised it hasn't yet."

"It's because he'll wake up," Ianto told him. "And I will never, ever stop saying I told you so when he does."

"As long as there's coffee and biscuits when you do," said Owen. "Speaking of which?" He turned to leave, and Ianto followed to help Tosh with the Rift manipulator. As he headed upstairs, he thought about everything David Evans had said, and whether Jack would accept the position of leader of Torchwood Three. He wondered how the others react, particularly Gwen. And he wondered what would happen to David, if he left Torchwood.

But none of it mattered if Jack didn't wake up.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One or two of you picked up on David's character, so I hope you enjoyed finding out more. Just a little side trip for me with a rare original character. I didn't want him to be a throw away character just because Jack was gone, I wanted him to have some depth of his own. And so much of Jack's history is riddle with hurt and betrayal I wanted to think that not everyone was awful to him, that some people stopped to help. The final chapter will be posted in a few days as it's quite a bit longer and much bigger in scope. Thank you for reading!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

"How are you doing?" Tosh asked as they worked on recalibrating the Rift Manipulator. Tosh had been tweaking it for days, and hoped this one last repair would finally set it right. Ianto tightened another bolt and glanced at her.

"I'm fine," he said. Which was not entirely true, but not entirely a lie, either.

"Ianto," she said. "I know it must be hard, watching Jack downstairs."

"Did you actually need my help or is this a mental health check?" he asked. She looked sheepish.

"A little of both?" she offered. "I'm worried—everyone is, even Owen. We don't want to see you get hurt if Jack doesn't…if he's really…"

"If he doesn't wake up?" Ianto finished for her. "If he's really dead? Look, I know every day he doesn't wake up, it's more likely that he's dead. But I saw him heal, Tosh. Owen's shot hit him in the heart, and it healed! He has to come back." He was whispering by the end. Jack had to come back, because Ianto didn't want to lose someone else he loved.

"Oh, Ianto," Tosh said, her eyes bright with sympathetic tears. She took his hand and squeezed tight. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," he said, wiping his own eyes of wetness. "It's not your fault."

"But it is," she said miserably. "I helped them open the Rift. It's my fault he's dead!"

"He chose to go out there and stop Abaddon," Ianto told her. "That's not your fault. You were tricked into opening the Rift, you know. Tricked by Manger."

"I know that now," she said. "But I—"

She broke off as they heard Owen swear not far from them. Standing up and looking around the manipulator, Tosh gasped.

"Ianto!"

"What?" he asked, frightened by the look on her face. He stood and ran onto the walkway, almost reaching for his weapon; instead, he froze in his tracks, his heart almost stopping with shock. There before him, pale and smiling, was Jack. Alive.

He stumbled forward in disbelief. David Evans stood beside Jack, looking relieved and exhausted. As Ianto came up to them, he patted Ianto on the shoulder and hobbled away. Tosh was there immediately to help him, leaving Jack and Ianto relatively alone.

"Welcome back," Ianto whispered into the thick silence between them. He held out his hand; Jack took it and pulled him into a crushing embrace before kissing him soundly in front of the others. Ianto didn't care. Jack was alive and kissing him. Owen could take the piss as much as he wanted.

"I missed you," Jack whispered, and Ianto almost sobbed out loud, letting it out as a laugh instead.

"I missed you too," he said, unable to keep his hands from touching Jack's arms, his shoulders, his face. He was real, he was there, he was  _alive._ "You've been gone for three days."

"I know," Jack said. "David told me. He said you've been downstairs most of the time."

"I only came up to help Tosh with something," Ianto said. His eyes were wet again and he couldn't help it. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you came back—"

"Don't be," Jack said. "Thank you for believing in me. I've woken up in a morgue drawer before and it's not fun."

"Then I'm sorry you died, that you had to face Abaddon alone, that you've been gone so long—"

Jack stopped him with another breathtaking kiss. "It's not your fault, none of it. Besides, I told you I'd be back, didn't I?"

Ianto looked into his eyes, saw the fear and uncertainty there. "Did you believe it?"

"I wanted to," Jack whispered, turning them away from the others in the Hub. "It was so dark for so long, I didn't know if I could hold on. But I didn't want to leave you." He took a shaky breath. "So, what did I miss up here?"

Ianto laughed despite the seriousness of the situation. "Not much. We've been putting things back together and waiting for you."

"David said the Rift took everything back, everyone is alive?" Jack asked.

"Thanks to you," Ianto murmured. "How do you feel?"

Jack cocked his head and seemed to think about it. "Hungry," he said. "Really, really hungry."

"Then let's go," Ianto told him, taking his hand. "You need something to eat, and drink, and you can come back to mine so I can keep an eye on you—"

"Is that all you'll keep on me?" Jack murmured, wagging his eyebrows. Ianto grinned. God, he had missed Jack's ridiculous innuendo. He leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"I'm going to look over every inch of you, make sure everything is healed and in proper working order."

"Oh, I like that idea," Jack said. They turned to leave, but stopped to talk to the others first, gathered around the sofa and obviously trying not to listen.

"I'm taking Jack to get something to eat, and then home," Ianto announced. "You lot are on your own for food."

"We ordered our own lunch and now we have to fend for our own dinner too?" Owen asked, but there was no real rancor to his tone, only teasing in his words. Ianto rolled his eyes in reply.

"Everyone go home," David told them. "Well, finish what you were working on and then leave. We've all had three long days. You deserve an early night."

"What will you do?" Tosh asked, sounding concerned. David smiled, looking down with a sad expression on his face.

"Paperwork," he said. "Go on, go. Be back in the morning, ready to keep on the repairs. And there are still Weevils to turn loose!" he added. He tapped his injured leg. "I'm out for the count, so Owen can take mine."

Owen grumbled good-naturedly about it, but returned to the medical bay. Ianto turned to Tosh before gathering his things. "Did you still need me for the manipulator?" he asked, glancing anxiously at Jack. "I can stay if you do."

"Go on," said Gwen, stepping forward. "I'll help her finish."

"Really?" asked Ianto, skeptical tone matched by Tosh. Gwen huffed before she smiled.

"Yes, really," she said. She stepped forward and kissed Ianto on the cheek. "I know what it's like, thinking you've lost someone. And I know what it's like when you realize you didn't." Her grin spelled out exactly what she thought Ianto and Jack would be up to when they left. She was right.

"Thanks, Gwen," he told her. She stepped back and waved at Jack, who winked at her, then exchanged another grin with Tosh. Ianto grabbed his coat—Jack already had his—and turned Jack toward the cog door. "Let's go before the gossip begins!" he said loud enough for them to hear. They laughed behind him.

"Details tomorrow, Ianto!" Gwen called.

"Have a good night," Tosh offered.

"Oh, we will!" Jack tossed back. Ianto bustled him into the lift, too anxious to be gone and be alone with Jack to be embarrassed by his coworkers' teasing. He practically bounced on his toes as the door opened, then took Jack by the hand and led him into the back of the tourist office.

"I thought we were going out," Jack said, looking around curiously. "I'm hungry and—"

"And I need to know you're all right," Ianto practically growled, pressing Jack against the wall and claiming his lips in a heated kiss. He let his hands roam once more, assuring himself that Jack was whole, he was healthy, he was alive. If his hands roamed too far, if Jack murmured against his lips that they were in an office where any one of Ianto's coworkers could walk in on them, if Ianto kissed away his worries and unzipped their trousers, it was to experience a life-affirming orgasm with Jack pressed against him, gasping his name as Ianto moaned his release against Jack's lips. And it was worth it.

"Wow," Jack said not ten minutes later as they wiped themselves clean and tucked their clothing back in. "You really are glad to see me, aren't you?"

Ianto couldn't help the slight embarrassment coloring his cheeks and cleared his throat to try and find the right words. "Yes, well, I was hoping you wouldn't mind, since you've been—"

Jack kissed him, quick and light, his eyes crinkling with affection. "I don't mind. It was kind of hot."

Ianto laughed. "You would say that. Jack," he took a deep breath and met Jack's eyes, "you know I love you, right?"

"Well, you never said, so I didn't want to assume," Jack replied, but he was smiling, teasing Ianto in spite the seriousness of the moment.

"I love you," Ianto murmured, kissing him before stepping back. "Now please don't ever do that again."

"What, save the world?" Jack asked. Ianto motioned him back into the tourist office.

"No, please don't die like that ever again," Ianto said. "It was bloody hard convincing Owen not to put you in the drawer!"

"Thanks for that," Jack said. "How about I treat you to dinner for stopping him from doing an autopsy, too?"

"I'm charging this one to Torchwood." They laughed together as they left the tourist office and stepped out onto the Quay. Ianto locked the door behind them and walked side by side with Jack, who was already talking about how much he was going to order if Torchwood was paying the tab. The sun had set and the stars were coming out; it was growing colder, but the sky was clear and the view was beautiful. Ianto was happier than he'd been for days.

As they passed the Plass, Ianto felt a strong breeze; not unusual on the bay, but something about it set his skin tingling. He glanced around, wondering if a storm was brewing or if the Rift was acting up again, which was when he caught a glimpse of it out of the side of his eye, standing in the middle of the Plass next to the water tower: a large blue police box. He stopped in his tracks and stared.

"No," he whispered. "Not now."

Jack kept walking, still talking about ordering steak and potatoes and the most expensive glass of scotch he could find on the menu. "Jack?" Ianto called, but his voice failed him. "Jack!" he shouted, and started walking away, back toward the water tower. "Jack, he's here!"

He glanced behind him to see Jack had stopped, staring past Ianto to where the police box stood. A man and a woman stepped out and looked around. Ianto walked faster, felt Jack come running up beside him.

"He's finally here," he whispered. He sounded as shocked and upset as Ianto felt. They'd just saved the world, had their moment, made their declarations…and now Jack's Doctor had shown up, at the worst possible time, to whisk him away. Back to his own time, or his own planet. Away from Ianto.

"Come on," Ianto said, tugging on Jack's hand and walking faster. "You can't miss him."

"Ianto," he said, pulling them to a stop. "I don't…I want…"

"Jack, you have to go," Ianto replied, his voice sharp. "You've been waiting for over a century. Come on!"

Jack's face was both startled and hurt as Ianto pulled him into a run and they sprinted across the Plass. The man and woman had walked over to a nearby railing, talking easily as they watched the people around them. He was wearing a suit and a long leather coat, not unlike Jack's; she was dressed in more modern clothing, with a sharp leather jacket.

Ianto recognized the man in the suit. It was the Doctor, the same one who had been at Canary Wharf and stopped the Cybermen and defeated the Daleks. The same coat, same floppy hair, same damn trainers. A flood of emotions hit Ianto, seeing the man who had saved Torchwood One once more: the fear he'd felt that terrible day; the grief of losing so many friends, of losing Lisa; the anger, that Torchwood One had written its own end; and the resentment, that while the Doctor had stopped the invaders, he had left behind a devastating aftermath without a word. He had saved them and abandoned them.

It suddenly occurred to Ianto that the Doctor had done almost the same to Jack: saved him from himself, from his own self-destruction, only to abandon him on a space station in the future.

The thought of losing Jack broke his heart, but more than anything, Ianto wanted Jack to have his answers, to find out what had happened to him on that space station, and why the Doctor had left. Jack needed to know if the Doctor could help him, fix him That's what the Doctor did, after all: he saved people. And if he'd condemned them in the first place, he had damn well better save them. Jack needed the Doctor.

The woman saw Ianto and Jack running toward them and nudged the man next to her. Jack called for the Doctor, who glanced up, his eyes widening with surprise. He said something to his companion and started walking back toward the blue police box, his ship. She resisted, however, stopping to watch them coming closer. He urged her on.

Jack put on a burst of speed, shouting for the Doctor. A flash of white hot anger surged through Ianto, that the Doctor was abandoning Jack again, running away when it was clear he saw them, obvious that they wanted to talk to him. It wasn't right. Jack could not lose this chance to understand his past.

He had his weapon, as they'd all been wearing them around the Hub and Ianto had taken to wearing it whenever he left as well. He took it out, caught up to Jack, and shouted at the Doctor.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" The woman stopped, though the Doctor tried to continue. Ianto considered firing a shot over their head, but knew it was too dangerous on the Plass. To his surprise, the woman reached out and pulled the Doctor to a stop with a sharp word, and they waited for Jack and Ianto to catch up, breathless from their mad dash across the pavement.

"Doctor," gasped Jack.

"Captain," said the Doctor.

"Good to see you." There was little warmth to the greeting, however, and Jack was eyeing the Doctor strangely, his usual confidence shattered by the Doctor's odd reception and attempt to run away.

"And you. Same as ever. Although, have you had work done?"

"You can talk," Jack retorted, his face tight with confusion.

"Oh yes, the face," said the Doctor. "Regeneration. How did you know this was me?"

"The police box kind of gives it away," Jack replied. Ianto refrained from rolling his eyes as Jack crossed his arms over his chest, clearly protecting his heart. "And I've been following you for a long time, Doctor. You abandoned me."

"Did I? Busy life. Moving on."

The woman beside the Doctor looked confused. "He abandoned you? How come you left him behind, Doctor?"

"I was busy," the Doctor replied with a shrug.

"Is that what happens? You get bored with us one day and disappear?" Ianto realized she must be one of the Doctor's companions.

"Not if you're blonde," said Jack.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, until Jack turned toward her and offered his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?"

"Martha Jones," she replied.

"Nice to meet you Martha Jones," Jack replied with a smile that only Ianto could see was forced.

"Oh, don't start," the Doctor said, rolling his eyes.

"I was only saying hello!" Jack protested.

"I don't mind," said Martha. There was another uncomfortable silence as everyone glanced awkwardly at one another. Martha held out her hand toward Ianto. "Martha Jones," she offered.

"Ianto Jones," he replied.

"Good name," she laughed. Ianto already liked her: she seemed much more grounded than the Doctor, who was bouncing on his toes, studiously avoiding looking at Jack, but stopped and gazed at Ianto.

"You were there," he said. "At Canary Wharf, with Yvonne Hartmann," he said. "I remember you."

Ianto was shocked the Doctor remembered him. He'd been Yvonne's PA at the time and had been at her side when they'd captured the Doctor. When the Cybermen had invaded, Ianto had been dismissed for other tasks; when the Daleks had arrived and the world gone to hell, he had been caught up in the fighting, until it had ended with a crushing wind and he'd desperately searched for Lisa in the ruins.

"I was," he answered, pushing the memories aside. Now was not the time to dwell on the past.

The Doctor looked around, found the water tower. "You still work for Torchwood," he said. "Torchwood Three."

"It's different here," Ianto said. "It's changed. There are only a half dozen of us. We protect Cardiff."

"Everything Torchwood did, and you're still a part of it?"

"They were destroyed at Canary Wharf," Ianto ground out. "It's not the same anymore."

The Doctor nodded slowly and turned to Jack. "And you?"

"I do what I can," Jack said quietly. "But I left years ago."

"Right," the Doctor replied. He grinned. "Well, it was good to see you again, Jack. Take care!" And he turned to leave without another word. Ianto exchanged a startled look with Jack, and they hurried after him before he entered his ship.

"Wait!" Jack called, taking the Doctor's arm and turning him around to face them. "I've lived through the entire twentieth century waiting for a version of you that would coincide with me."

"But that makes you more than one hundred years old!" Martha exclaimed.

"And looking good, don't you think?" asked Jack before turning back to the Doctor. "I came to the Rift, based myself here because I knew you'd come back to refuel."

"Why were you waiting?" asked Martha. She had clearly picked up on the tension between the two men and was determined to know why. Ianto stepped closer to Jack to offer his emotional support.

"To ask some questions."

The Doctor gazed steadily but silently at Jack, until Ianto wanted to grab the man and shake him into speaking. Or perhaps punch him.

"Did you know?" Jack asked softly, his voice breaking. The Doctor nodded slowly. "How long have you known?"

"Ever since I ran away from you," the Doctor replied. Jack looked like he'd been slapped, the look in his eyes devastating.

"Known what?" asked Martha into the silence. Jack turned to her, his face blank, his voice flat.

"I'm the man who can never die," he said, and Ianto's heart broke for him once more. "And all that time he knew."

"It's why I left you behind," the Doctor said. "It's not easy even looking at you, Jack, because you're wrong."

"Thanks," Jack said bitterly, and Ianto couldn't hold back any longer. He stepped forward, his anger spilling over.

"He's not wrong!" Ianto told him. "He's different, changed. That doesn't make him wrong."

"He is. I can't help it. I'm a Time Lord. It's instinct." The Doctor took off his glasses and Ianto saw the ancient look in his eyes, touched by sadness. "You're a fixed point in time and space, Jack. You're a fact. That's never meant to be."

"Then how did it happen?" Jack demanded. "Last thing I remember, back when I was mortal, I was facing three Daleks. Death by extermination. And then I came back to life. Why?"

The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest, studied Jack, then nodded to himself. "You'd better come in then. It'll be easier to explain than out here."

Jack's eyes slipped closed. "I just want answers," he whispered. "I've been waiting for so long."

"And I'll try my best," said the Doctor, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "But not out here. We should go." He turned toward the blue police box and motioned Martha inside, then paused on the threshold. "Coming?"

Jack turned toward Ianto. Their eyes met, but they did not speak. Ianto didn't think he'd be able to say anything, his throat was too tight, his stomach in knots. Jack was leaving—leaving Earth, leaving him. Ianto had known for months, and had known it would hurt, and yet he still was caught unprepared for how much. He had only been with Jack for a few short months, but he couldn't imagine his life without the other man. He could spend the rest of his life with Jack, would do anything for him…but he didn't know if he could watch Jack walk away. It would break his heart.

Jack reached out and took his hand, smiled at him, then turned around and began to walk toward the Doctor's ship, still holding Ianto's hand. So this was it, Ianto was walking him right to the door, like the end of a date. He couldn't do it. He needed distance. He needed to say goodbye and escape, run away to recover in solitude and begin to put himself back together. He pulled Jack to a stop.

"Jack, I can't do this, not here," he said, his voice cracking. Jack stepped closer.

"Can't do what?" he asked. Jack seemed so calm and yet so excited that Ianto felt even worse. He should be happy for Jack, that he could finally learn what had happened to him, even go home. He was, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

"I don't want to say goodbye," Ianto whispered. "Not now."

Jack cocked his head in that irresistible way he had and smiled. "Who said anything about goodbye?" he asked. "Come—"

"Ianto!" called a voice from across the Plass, and Ianto turned to see Tosh, Owen, and Gwen running toward him. "Stop!"

"—with me," Jack finished.

"What?" Ianto exclaimed.

"Don't go!" cried Tosh.

"Come with me," Jack repeated, his voice sincere, his look intense. "I don't want to leave you, so come with me."

"I can't leave Wales!" Ianto said. "This is my home—this city, this planet. I can't leave Torchwood."

"We'll come back," Jack said. "I promise. Come with me. I can show you the universe."

"Ianto?" asked Gwen, running up to them with the others. "What's going on?"

"It's the Doctor, isn't it?" Tosh asked breathlessly. "It's his ship."

Ianto and Jack ignored them, staring at one another—one waiting for an answer, the other too confused to reply.

"Why?" Ianto asked.

"Because I love you," Jack said. "And I need you. And I want you to come with me."

"What?" exclaimed Gwen. "Ianto, no—"

"We need you," Tosh said. "Torchwood needs you."

"We'll come back," Jack said. "I promise, we'll come back. Together."

"Jack, I can't drop everything and run away!" Ianto told him. "I have a life here, a job, a family. I can't…" He trailed off as he realized the truth. "I can't leave you."

"Is that a yes?" Jack asked. "Please say yes," he whispered.

Ianto was not a spontaneous person. He was a meticulous, organized man who planned for the future. He did not particularly like big surprises, and definitely did not like giving up control of his life. He hadn't done much traveling, instead exploring the new and unknown from the comfort of the archives. He preferred structure, order, the familiar. And yet…he'd fallen for Jack, hadn't he? Jack who was free, who was impulsive, who was chaos—everything he was not. Jack, who was asking him to not only leave his home, but leave his  _planet_ behind to be with him and travel the universe.

It was a risk. It was taking a chance in a way he'd never taken one before. It was traveling with an immortal man from the future and Torchwood's number one enemy, a mad alien Time Lord, across space and time. It was insane.

But…it was Jack. It was always Jack.

"Yes," Ianto whispered, and Jack kissed him with so much feeling that Ianto knew he had made the right decision. It wouldn't be easy, but they would be together. And they would come back—to Earth and to Torchwood.

"Come on, then!" the Doctor called from the door of his ship. "I may have a time machine, but I don't have all day."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked.

"No," Ianto replied. "But I'm going anyway. And I'm holding you to your promise, to come back."

"We can come back tomorrow," Jack said. "Time machine, remember?"

"Ianto, no!" said Gwen. "You can't leave, we…" She trailed off as Ianto turned toward the others.

"We'll miss you," said Tosh quietly, and she threw herself into his arms.

"I won't," said Owen, but he held out his hand anyway and shook Ianto's firmly.

"Make sure you follow through on that promise, Harkness," David Evans said, limping up behind them on crutches, his face pinched with pain. "Torchwood needs you both."

"Both?" asked Ianto, looking at Jack in surprise. "Did he—are you—"

Jack shrugged. "He asked, but I haven't accepted."

"Asked what?" said Owen, sounding as if he suspected something.

"We'll talk about it later," Evans replied. "Right now, we need to get this ship off the Plass. People are starting to stare."

"David," said Gwen, "you can't possibly let them go! How do we know it's safe?"

"Who are we to stop them?" asked David. Gwen did not respond, but looked so genuinely upset that Ianto stepped forward to embrace her.

"I'll be all right," he told her, surprised to see tears in her eyes. "And we'll be back, I promise. Take care of the others until then, okay? Make sure they eat, maybe pick up some decent coffee?"

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll do my best, but we need you, Ianto. And not just your coffee."

He was as touched by her words as he was surprised. Tosh hugged him again as he stepped back.

"She's right. Come back soon."

"I will," he promised. He walked over to David and offered his hand. "Thank you," he said. "For everything."

"You're welcome," David replied. "But go, before I change my mind!"

Ianto wanted to say more, but the words wouldn't come. He was leaving these people whom he'd worked with for less than a year, but realized now were family. He would miss them, miss his mother and his sister and his flat. His home. It was a big step, but it was worth it. He would be with Jack, among the stars.

With a nod of acknowledgement, he joined Jack at the door to the Doctor's ship. He turned and waved one last time before he stepped into the blue police box. Jack took his hand and was holding tight as the door shut behind them. Ianto stood at the threshold, gazing around in wonder. He was in a space ship. He was leaving his home…but he was with Jack. Together they would finally find the answers he'd longed for and learn whether or not Jack could be mortal again.

And Ianto wouldn't have it any other way in the world—or beyond.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> As always, no copyright infringement is intended is using much of the dialogue from Utopia/Sound of Drums.
> 
> This is where I always envisioned the story going and ending: Ianto leaving with Jack. How that changes events after is up to you. Whether or not they endure The Year That Never Was is not something I've plotted out. In my mind, they eventually return to Torchwood together. Jack joins the team and series two progresses much like it did on screen, with the exception of Jack and Ianto having a much closer, much more serious relationship. I have no plans to write any more in this universe, however, as the initial impetus to explore how they would end up together if Jack had left Torchwood has been fulfilled. And I have several other stories I want to write next!
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this story and the alternate universe scenario it presented for Jack, Ianto, and Torchwood. Comments are much appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
